


Never Too Late

by Sxymami0909, xtremeroswellian



Series: The Devil Within [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banshee Lydia Martin, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Lydia has nightmares, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Protective Derek, Protective Scott, Protective Stiles, Sassy Lydia, Stiles Has Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:50:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 155,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sxymami0909/pseuds/Sxymami0909, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the wake of the Nogitsune's distruction Stiles is attempting to put his life back together, but things are never as easy as they seem. Meanwhile Scott attemps to mend his fractured pack but is it too late to fix what's been broken? Or will the past few months strengthen the bond between them? Lydia's link with Stiles has only grown stronger since the death of the Nogitsune and now she can feel Scott too leading Lydia to seek out information about her banshee origins from an unlikely source. While new relationships form, others are tested. Can our favorite trio fix what's been broken or will Scott's pack be broken forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Scott had ducked out of study hall that day in order to take a call from Derek. He’d texted earlier that morning to let Scott know that Lydia had woken up in the middle of the night screaming. That was alarming, but she was awake and he was going to take that one as a win, regardless of how it had happened because Lydia waking up from her supernatural coma was going to help Stiles.   
  
“Did she say why she was screaming?” he asked quietly as he sat on the stairs in the otherwise empty corridor.   
  
Derek stood outside the hospital room pacing the hallway as he glanced back towards the door. “No,” his frown deepened as he watched a nurse walk by him. “She freaked out. Doctors and nurses came into the room to check her out and they’ve been running tests since last night,” he explained. “They called her mom, but she’s out of town until the day after tomorrow. She couldn’t get back any sooner,” sometimes Derek didn’t understand parents. Scott’s mother had checked in on Lydia more than her own.   
  
“She keeps asking for Stiles. It took over an hour to calm her down enough last night that she stopped hysterically asking for him.” Derek pursed his lips, “I don’t know what happened or what was going on, but she didn’t look okay when she woke up. They gave her a sedative last night, but she seems to be okay now...kind of. She’s been quiet.” He told the younger werewolf.   
  
Scott exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. He had to remind himself that as long as she was awake, they could deal with the rest somehow. Together. Except they were all so fractured by everything that had happened, Scott really wasn’t sure how to start trying to put everyone back together. He’d been spending so much time at the Stilinski household because his best friend needed him, and Isaac had been spending most of his spare time with the Argent’s, and Derek had taken on the task of staying with Lydia when no one else was there.   
  
He didn’t really understand Lydia’s parents, either. When Stiles had been in the hospital, his dad and Scott’s mom had been there almost constantly. Hell, one of them was still staying with him around the clock. His mother had gone on Stiles-duty the same time Scott had gone to school that morning.   
  
“Okay, well as soon as school’s over, I’ll go over and pick Stiles up and we’ll come up there. It’ll be good for him to see she’s awake, too.”   
  
Derek nodded even though Scott couldn’t see him. “I think that’s a good idea. Maybe you can bring some stuff for her? Clothes...something to make her not feel so out of place?” Derek was out of his element. He didn’t really know what to do to make Lydia feel better.   
  
“Yeah, no problem,” Scott assured him. He didn’t blame Lydia for feeling out of place at the hospital. He was fairly sure hospitals were designed to make you feel as out of place as possible so you’d have motivation to get out as quickly as possible and go home. Okay so maybe that had originally been Stiles’ theory, but he couldn’t disagree. “We’ll swing by her place on the way there and get some of her things.” Actually there might have still been some of her things at Scott’s house from when she’d been staying there while Stiles was possessed.   
  
“Okay, I’ll stay with her until then, try to get her to talk.” He said quietly as he glanced back at the room again and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll see you guys a little later,” Derek paused, “And Scott you might want to tell Allison and Isaac that she’s awake. She came by a couple of times,” which had been awkward.   
  
He drew in a breath, letting it out slowly. “Yeah. All right, thanks, Derek. I appreciate it.” His voice was sincere. “I’ll let them know that she’s awake finally. They’ll be glad to hear it.”   
  
Derek paused in front of the hospital room door, “Okay.” He was silent for a minute, “We’ll see you soon.” He said before disconnecting the call, taking a deep breath and heading back into Lydia’s room.   
  
Scott disconnected, as well, sighing softly and leaning back against the next step, eyebrows furrowing when his phone rang again almost immediately. His chest tightened when he saw his mom’s number flash across Caller ID. He quickly answered. “Mom? What is it? Is everything okay? Are you okay? Is Stiles okay?”   
  
Melissa pursed her lips as her son rattled off question after question, not giving her a chance to answer. She waited for him to stop talking before she spoke. “We’re okay,” she said her voice quiet as she glanced back at Stiles bedroom. “Stiles woke up screaming not long ago, I’m not sure what happened, a nightmare maybe.” Melissa could see Stiles sitting on his bed staring at his hands. Her chest was tight not able to help remembering how he’d screamed so loudly it echoed through the house startling her.   
  
Her heart was still beating quickly in her chest. “Sweetie, I was thinking maybe you could stop by after school and take Stiles to visit with Lydia and Derek. Seeing her always seems to calm him down and right now,” she paused her gaze on Stiles, “He could probably use that.” She told her son quietly.   
  
Scott winced at the information, and then paused. “Didn’t you say Sheriff Stilinski said he woke up screaming last night, too?” He held his breath, rising to his feet. Maybe he should head home right now. It wasn’t like a half day at school was going to matter that much in the long run. He’d pulled his grades up. “Do you know what time that was, Mom?”   
  
Melissa stepped away from Stiles room as she thought back to her phone call with Michael. “I think it was sometimes around midnight, why?” She asked confused as to why it mattered what time Stiles woke up screaming.   
  
“Because Lydia woke up last night, Mom.” He pulled the phone away from his ear to check the time on Derek’s text. “She woke up at 12:03. Screaming.” Scott’s heart was beating more quickly in his chest. That wasn’t a coincidence. It _couldn’t_ be a coincidence. “Look, I don’t really have anything going on the rest of the day. I mean I don’t have any tests or assignments to hand in or anything. I think I’m gonna come home, okay?” He hoped she wouldn’t protest but right now it felt like it was more important for him to be at home with Stiles and trying to figure out what was going on with him and with Lydia. His pack needed him.   
  
Melissa’s eyes widened. “She did? Is she alright? What did Derek say?” She realized that she was doing the same thing Scott had done to her only minutes before. She hesitated before answering his question. “Come home...but just for today, school is important and eventually Stiles is going to have to go back too.” She said matter-of-factly.   
  
A tiny smile touched his mouth at her rapid fire questions. “Yeah, she’s awake. They’re running tests but I think she’s okay physically.” He hesitated. “Derek said she’s been really quiet and asking for Stiles. I don’t know what’s going on.” He drew in a breath.   
  
“Well then we should give the girl what she wants,” said Melissa, her gaze drifting back to Stiles.   
  
“All right. I’ll see you soon, Mom. Love you.”   
  
“I’ll see you soon honey, love you too.” Melissa hung up her cell phone and slipped it into her pants pocket before walking into Stiles room with the glass of water she’d left to get him. “Here’s your water, are you feeling any better?” She asked with a frown as she held out the glass to him.   
  
“Thanks, Ms. McCall,” he said softly, taking the glass of water from her but not meeting her eyes. “Yeah. I’m okay.” He took a small sip, clutching onto the cup tightly. “Did uh -- did my dad tell you --” He paused, realizing he already knew the answer to his own question, and he shook his head. Of course she knew he used to have night terrors as a kid. He’d had them at her house, too, sometimes, when he spent the night with Scott.   
  
Melissa tilted her head to the side at his words and smiled softly. “He did.” She brushed her hand through his hair and then motioned to the empty spot on the bed beside him, “Mind if I sit with you for a little bit, I’ve got some news.” She said her tone light.   
  
“No, it’s fine,” he told her, scooting over a little to make more room for her to sit down comfortably. He wondered what kind of news she was going to present him with. He hoped it was something good, but it was hard to think there might be any of that floating around at all, considering.   
  
Considering he’d killed people. Considering he’d tried to kill his own father. Scott. Isaac. Allison. It would have been a matter of time before he’d gone after Lydia. He’d been inside the Nogitsune’s head as much as it had been in his. He’d seen its plans. The things it had wanted to do. The people it had wanted to hurt. He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly.   
  
Melissa climbed onto the bed beside Stiles, and stretched out above the covers with her back against the headboard. She wrapped an arm around him rubbing her hand down his forearm.   
  
Stiles was too tired to try and resist any comfort she had to offer even if he knew he didn’t deserve it.   
  
“Scott’s on his way home from school,” she commented while sending him a sideways glance. “Lydia’s awake,” Melissa told him with a warm smile.   
  
He laid his head down on her shoulder, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly as she told him Scott was coming home from school, which made no sense until she added the rest of her remark. He jerked his head up quickly. “She’s awake? Is she okay?”   
  
Melissa nodded, “Calm down,” she said softly as she rubbed her hand up and down his arm again. “They’re running some tests, but she seems to be physically fine, which is good. Derek is with her now and when Scott gets home he’s going to take you to the hospital to see her, she’s been asking for you.” Melissa responded with a smile.   
  
“She has?” That threw him a bit. As much as he’d wanted her to wake up, he’d also been slightly terrified she’d wake up and tell him to stay the hell away from her. And he wouldn’t have blamed her for that at all.   
  
Melissa nodded frowning at the surprise on his face as she brushed the hair away from his head. “Yes, since last night when she woke up.” She told him. “Why are you surprised?” Melissa asked with an amused smile on her face. “I’m pretty sure Lydia Martin cares about you very much.” She told him.   
  
“Because --” Stiles cut himself off before he could say one of many things that wouldn’t go over well. Like, _Because I terrorized her. Because I ripped her boyfriend’s heart out of his chest. Because I almost killed her best friend instead of my own._ He looked down at the comforter on his legs. “She almost died because of me.”   
  
Melissa’s chest tightened and she gripped his chin gently lifting it up, “Stiles, Lydia risked her life _for_ you. She knew the consequences and did it anyway,” Melissa explained even though she knew he already knew that. “I think that says a lot, don’t you?” She asked.   
  
Tears burned his eyes and he blinked rapidly so they wouldn’t fall and he shut his eyes after a moment. “Yeah. Yeah, I know she did.” He sniffed, rubbing a hand over his face. He just didn’t understand _why_.   
  
Melissa studied his face and her heart clenched. “Oh baby, come here.” She said her voice soft as she pulled Stiles into her side and wrapped her other arm around him practically cocooning the teenager in her arms, which was no small feat. She rested her head against his and pressed a kiss to his head. “Things are going to get better, maybe not right away, but I will be here whenever you need me. You can always come to me with anything, even if you just want to sit here and say nothing,” Melissa told him softly.   
  
Stiles shuddered involuntarily as she gathered her into his arms. He slid his arms around her in return, pressing his face against her shoulder as he struggled not to cry. He was too old to break down in tears every time he was stressed out or upset about something. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that things were going to get better eventually, but he couldn’t picture it actually happening. Not after everything. “I think we both know I suck at the not talking thing.”   
  
Melissa chuckled softly, “Well then you can talk away, I’ll always be here to listen.” It was important to her that Stiles knew that he could always come to her no matter what. “Why don’t we relax here for a little bit and then you can get dressed because I doubt you want to see Lydia wearing this.” She said with a smile.   
  
He looked down at the old raggedy t-shirt he was wearing and his sweatpants and almost chuckled, wiping his eyes. “Yeah not so much.” He looked like crap. That much he knew. He could see that every time he looked in the mirror. He’d lost weight, his skin was paler than usual, his eyes duller. He’d been reading on the after-effects of being possessed, and he knew all of that was relatively normal, as well as the perpetual nausea and lack of appetite. And the nightmares.   
  
Melissa smiled, “Well then let’s relax for a little bit before Scott gets here, it shouldn’t be long now.” She said her words soft.   
  
Stiles exhaled slowly, resting his head back down on her shoulder once more, not protesting the idea of lying there a little while longer. Just until Scott got there, he reasoned, letting his eyes drift shut again. He was so damn tired.   


______

  
  
Scott pulled into the hospital parking lot slowly, maneuvering Stiles’ jeep towards the back where the visitor parking was. He wasn’t used to driving a car, it was a lot bigger than his bike, but Scott knew Stiles wasn’t ready to be driving around town just yet. When he’d gotten to the Stilinski house early he’d found Stiles asleep against his Mom’s side, her body gently rocking him and Scott had almost lost it.   
  
He hated not being able to help his best friend more, not being able to help _anyone_ more. He was the alpha, it was his job to help everyone heal and bring the pack back together, but he had no clue how to go about it. Even the phone call he’d made to Isaac earlier letting them know Lydia was awake was full of tension.   
  
He sighed softly to himself as he pulled towards a spot glancing briefly at Stiles and frowning when he saw his friend looking upset. “Stiles, what is it? What’s wrong?” He asked as he parked the car and killed the engine, before angling his body in his friend’s direction.   
  
Stiles wasn’t sure when it had started, but sometime on the drive over to the hospital from his house, he’d felt the familiar sensation of a panic attack building. The more he thought about how much he didn’t want to have a panic attack, the worse he’d started to feel. He could barely hear Scott’s voice over the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. It felt like it was going to actually burst free from its place, which would be a kind of karmic justice that he couldn’t begin to deny.   
  
And then his brain had immediately began assaulting him with images of the fight with Aidan, of the terrible things he’d said, taunting him about Lydia, deliberately to piss him off even more before finally ripping his heart out. He flinched visibly in the jeep, sucking in air even as he scrambled for the door handle, holding onto the door tightly as he stumbled out, nearly falling. Everything was getting blurry around the edges and he was gasping as the pressure in his chest grew to painful levels. Hot tears stung his eyes and he flung himself away from the jeep door, stumbling and hitting another car.   
  
He wanted to scream but he couldn’t find the air to do so, and he felt like he was going to throw up, but there was nothing left in his stomach to come up. He’d thrown up everything he’d eaten already, earlier.   
  
Panic shot through Scott and he was already at Stiles’ side by the time he bumped into the other car, his hands gripping his friend gently. “Stiles, Stiles this is a panic attack right?” He asked his body tense as he tried to calm his friend down. Scott gripped his shoulders, “Look at me man, just take a deep breath, come on.”   
  
It seemed like Stiles couldn’t ever hear him and that made fear curl in Scott’s stomach. “I don’t know what to do,” he said frantically and glanced around to see if there was anything that could help calm his friend down.   
  
He tried to focus on Scott’s face because somehow Scott had moved so fast that Stiles was barely out of the jeep before he was right there in front of him. Stiles reached out, holding onto his friend’s arms because he was half afraid he was going to pass out or have a heart attack. It always felt like that. He tried to take a deep breath but he just gasped again instead.   
  
Stiles let go of Scott, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and holding his breath.   
  
Scott stepped forward not letting his friend get away for too long. “Stiles, stop, you need to breathe. Take a breath I’ll do it with you.” He said his ears picking up Stiles’ elevated heartbeat. He could practically see the sheen of sweat forming on his friend’s brow as his fingers trembled. Scott took a deep breath knowing that in order to help Stiles he needed to be calm.   
  
“Stiles, listen to my voice. I don’t know what’s upsetting you, but maybe if you try to explain it to me I can help,” he said as he rubbed his friends back, “I know it’s hard okay, I want to help, but I need your help too.” He told his friend trying to keep as calm as possible.   
  
Stiles shuddered involuntarily, focusing as hard as he could on just the sound of his best friend’s voice. He gripped Scott’s arm once more, finally managing to suck in a lungful of air. He gave Scott a pained look, holding up one finger and leaning down, placing one hand on his knee because he’d read somewhere that when you were panicky or hyperventilating leaning down helped. It took him a long moment but he felt his heart begin to calm down once more, slowing to something closer it’s normal pace. He leaned against the car, shutting his eyes again.   
  
“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking miserable. “Sorry, I don’t…” He shook his head. “It just came on all of a sudden.”   
  
Scott rested a hand on his back, “Don’t, you don’t have to apologize. It happens,” he said quietly as he patted his back gently. He could hear Stiles heart slipping back into a normal pattern of beating and relief filled him. “You sure you’re okay?” He asked watching him worriedly.   
  
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m okay.” Stiles drew in another deep breath, wondering how long people were going to keep putting up with his crap. He needed to pull it together and figure out how to live with what he’d done and that was that. And the first step to doing that was going to see the girl who was in the hospital because she’d literally risked her life to save his. And she shouldn’t have. “Thanks, Scott,” he murmured, voice barely audible.   
  
Scott smiled tiredly, “Dude, you’re my best friend; you don’t have to keep thanking me so much.” He told Stiles as he nodded his head towards the hospital doors. “You ready to go inside?” He asked doing his best not to keep asking if Stiles was okay.   
  
Stiles nodded. “Yeah, let’s...go see Lydia.” He swallowed hard, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at his friend, a pang of guilt sweeping over him as it dawned on him once more how tired Scott looked. And how could he not be tired? He’d put all of them through hell for weeks.   
  
Scott nodded and headed for the entrance of the hospital. It didn’t take them long to make their way up to Lydia’s floor and the minute they stepped off the elevator Scott frowned, the sounds of Lydia’s high pitched voice catching his ears. “What the hell…”   
  
Derek held up his hands, “Lydia please keep your voice down,” he said stiffly. “If they hear you screaming again they’re going to come back in here and sedate you; is that what you want?” He asked lifting his eyebrows as he spoke. Lydia had woken up screaming yet again that afternoon and Derek had no clue why. But he wasn’t quite sure how to calm her down.   
  
Lydia stood beside the hospital bed, the thin gown that covered her body not enough to keep the draft from the room out. She stared at Derek and pursed her lips. “I need to find Stiles, I want to leave let me leave,” she said her voice growing louder. Images flashed in her head and she squeezed her eyes shut her hand reaching up and gripping her head as her face screwed up in pain.   
  
Something was wrong. She was remembering things that hadn’t happened to her. She was seeing what Stiles had seen and she wanted it to stop and never see it again. The flash of memory was gone a minute later and Lydia let her eyes flutter open. She caught Derek’s gaze, “Can you make it stop?”   
  
Derek opened and closed his mouth, “Make what stop? I don’t understand.”   
  
“I want to see Stiles.”   
  
Derek grunted, “Yes, I know, you’ve mentioned that and if I had Stiles in my back pocket I’d whip him out and give him to you but I don’t. So sit down and relax for a minute so I can call Scott.” He said his voice tight as he jabbed his hand into his pocket to grab his cell phone. But before he could make the call he heard footsteps and when he turned he spotted Scott and relief filled his face. “Please tell me you brought Stiles.” He said with a huff.   
  
Stiles stepped up right behind Scott, holding his breath as his eyes landed on Lydia, his chest tightening for a whole different reason this time that didn’t involve a massive panic attack. “Lydia?” he whispered, voice barely audible. He’d caught the tail end of Derek’s speech and knew she’d been asking for him. He bit down hard on his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood, but he didn’t dare take a step closer without knowing what her reaction would be.   
  
Lydia’s eye’s shot away from Derek at the sound of a familiar voice. She caught sight of Stiles and her body froze refusing to move not sure if what she was seeing was real. She swallowed hard and took a hesitant step forward. “Stiles?” She quirked an eyebrow, her bare feet stepping forward again as Derek shifted out of her way, not wanting to be caught in the middle.   
  
He looked like Stiles. The Nogitsune was gone. She’d destroyed it. This was just Stiles...her Stiles. Lydia kept moving slowly until she was standing right in front of him. Her eyes moving frantically across his body until they caught his again. Lydia reached out, pausing briefly before letting her fingertips graze his arm.   
  
Stiles had held his breath as she took a step toward him, barely even still aware that Scott and Derek were still in the room. He swallowed hard, taking a hesitant step toward her, as well. “Hey,” he murmured, looking down at his arm when she grazed it with her fingertips.   
  
She felt her chest tighten, emotion building inside of it as she shut her eyes. When she opened them again, they were red-rimmed. “It’s you.” She said, not even realizing there were silent tears streaming down her cheeks as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.   
  
Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed when she closed her eyes and then opened them again, this time crying. He shut his eyes and hugged her back tightly, burying his face against her neck and a hand in her hair. “It’s me,” he whispered.   
  
Derek pursed his lips and glanced at Scott confused by her behavior. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but it didn’t exactly seem good.   
  
Scott hesitated a second, then nodded toward the door, figuring maybe they should give the two a little bit of privacy. They could listen just in case they were needed.   
  
Derek was more than happy to leave them just in case there was any more screaming. He sent them one last glance before stepping out of the room with Scott.   
  
Lydia didn’t even acknowledge their absence. Instead she tightened her grip on Stiles relief flooding her. “It worked,” she whispered. “I knew, I knew.” Her words were muffled and her body shook slightly whether it was from the cold or the tears she didn’t know and she didn’t care. Stiles was okay. He was back and she was in his arms.   
  
He hugged her a little tighter, shuddering at her words. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered emphatically. “God Lydia. I’m so fucking sorry.” Tears soaked into her hospital gown as he held her.   
  
Lydia shook her head. “It’s not your fault.” She said immediately. “Don’t let go yet, okay.” she said softly tensing in his arms when another memory flashed behind her eyes. She felt sick. There was too much information flying around in her head and all she wanted to do was make it go away. Lydia didn’t know how much longer she could take the images in her head, she had no idea how Stiles had dealt with it for so long.   
  
It didn’t work that way, really. Stiles knew it, had known it even when he was trapped inside himself. It didn’t matter if the Nogitsune had been in control or if he had been. Because if he hadn’t been so _weak_ to begin with, it wouldn’t have ever possessed him. He knew that because the demon had liked to remind him of it at least three times daily, like a ritual of its own.   
  
_If you weren’t so weak I wouldn’t even be here._   
  
What was to stop something from taking him over again? It wasn’t like he was any stronger than he had been before. He swallowed hard at her words, not letting her go, but wondering why she tensed so suddenly. “Lydia? What’s going on? Are you okay?”   
  
Lydia swallowed hard, “It won’t go away,” she whispered, “I can’t get them out of my head,” the thought of lying to Stiles never even occurring to her. “Stiles, make them go away, you can help me. You can make them stop.” Lydia’s head was pounding, but she was happy to be awake and she was happy Stiles was okay.   
  
Stiles pulled back a little to look at her, completely confused by her words. “Can’t get what out of your head?” he asked worriedly, his eyebrows furrowing. He reached up and cupped her face in one hand to get her to look at him. “What is it?”   
  
Lydia squeezed her eyes shut avoiding his gaze, but leaning into his touch. “What _he_ did...it’s in there.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “Flashes of moments...memories?” That’s what they were. “They won’t stop Stiles…”   
  
He stared at her for a moment, realization beginning to take hold. Deaton had said something about her taking his memories, and that when she woke up he would probably get them all back. He just hadn’t said that she’d still have them, too. That she would still be seeing them even now. “Oh god.” Nausea swept over him and he had to guide them back over to the bed because he needed to sit down. “How can I make them stop?” Because she said he could and maybe she knew something he didn’t.   
  
Lydia let him guide her to the bed, sitting down almost immediately, but never losing physical contact with Stiles. “I don’t know.” She raised a hand to her head, the images gone for the moment. Lydia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know how to make it stop...It comes and goes,” she said sounding slightly calmer now that her mind was her own again for the moment.   
  
His expression was pained when he looked at her and he wanted to alternately wrap her in another hug and get as far away as possible because being around him wasn’t going to help her in the long run. And if she was seeing the things that the Nogitsune had made him do, if she was seeing the terrible things he’d caused, the thing he’d planned to do, he didn’t understand how she wanted to be around him in the first place. He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to think. He hadn’t taken enough Adderall to think clearly enough about how to deal with a problem this size. “Maybe we should ask Deaton for help,” he murmured, not thrilled with the idea. He was still upset with the older man, but if there was any chance he could help Lydia than he’d do it in a heartbeat.   
  
She nodded and then gripped him tightly. “Please don’t leave,” Lydia said suddenly. “I just I want to go home.” She paused, “I’m confused.” Everything was jumbled in her head and she was aware enough at the moment to realize it was making her sound like some kind of idiot. Lydia sighed and swallowed hard. “I don’t like hospitals,” she told him as she ran her hand over his arm. “I was afraid it wouldn’t work, that I was too late to get you back.” Lydia admitted closing her eyes again briefly. Despite the fact that she was apparently asleep for a while, she felt physically and emotionally exhausted.   
  
“I’m not. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, taking a deep breath and hesitantly sliding his arm around her shoulders. His expression shifted from grief to something closer to normal very quickly as he pulled her close again. He wanted to tell her never to do anything like that again. Not for him or for anyone else. “I don’t like them either,” he admitted faintly, thinking of his mother. Another thought flickered through him suddenly, that hadn’t occurred to him before. _I’m still dying._ He’d been so caught up in everything that Nogitsune had made him do while he was possessed he’d literally forgotten. His arm tightened around her a little, almost involuntarily. “You weren’t. You weren’t too late.” He laid his head against hers, closing his eyes.   
  
Lydia finally felt herself relax against him. “Will you take me home?” she asked, the lack of flashes currently playing through her head making relief fill her. Maybe just having Stiles back was helping. God, she hoped so.   
  
Stiles felt a tear trickle down his cheek but he resisted the urge to brush it away because he didn’t want to call attention to it. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s get out of here.”   
  
Lydia let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “I want to go with you...is that okay can I come with you?” It had been a really hard few weeks for her and everything spinning around in her head, well if it didn’t get out soon Lydia was convinced it was going to drive her crazy. She just wanted to be with Stiles. She wanted to rest with _him_ and try to get the picture of the Nogitsune wearing his body and doing terrible things out of her head.   
  
He shifted slightly on the bed and wound his other arm around her, pulling her to him gently. “Yeah. That’s okay.” He would take some Adderall and that would help him stay awake so he didn’t keep her awake with terrible nightmares. He let out a breath and buried his face against her hair.   
  
Lydia pressed herself closer to him taking comfort in his presence. It felt like it had been ages since she’d seen him or talked to him. Since he’d held her, something that seemed to happen a lot without her even realizing it at first. Lydia ran a hand down his back and up, resting it on the back of his neck, reassuring herself that he was actually there and not some kind of weird figment of her overactive imagination or a trick from the Nogitsune that seemed to have left quite a bit behind in her head upon its destruction.   
  
“This is real, isn’t it?” The words were barely a whisper, “You’re really here...I’m here and...It’s over?” Lydia asked trying to figure out why things still felt like she was in some kind of dream.   
  
Stiles’ arms tightened around her slightly, guilt sweeping over him at her words. He’d never wanted this. Not for her. She’d been through so much already because of Peter Hale. He’d never wanted to be a person who caused her any kind of trauma or pain and he’d done both, devastated her so deeply that she wasn’t sure if she was awake or asleep or distinguish for certain what was reality.   
  
He swallowed hard. “It’s over, Lydia,” he murmured. “You stopped it. You brought me back.” His voice was strained. “You saved my life.” And now he was going to do whatever he had to in order to save hers.   
  
Lydia felt the tears slip from her eyes and it frustrated her to no end. She couldn’t reconcile this girl sitting in front of Stiles with the girl she was. She wasn’t overcome with emotion, she didn’t cry constantly. Lydia Martin wasn’t _weak_. But if these past few weeks had taught her anything it was that she needed Stiles. When it had happened she wasn’t sure, but he kept her grounded, level-headed. And when presented with the prospect of losing him, well, she’d been willing to do anything not to.   
  
So, Lydia was going to give herself this. She was going to let herself be vulnerable, to take comfort in Stiles because for weeks the only thing she’d wanted was for him to hold her and tell her everything was fine. Scott had been great, Derek too, but they weren’t who she needed. It made her feel selfish. Lydia should be there for him, helping him cope. She didn’t even know if he remembered what happened.   
  
And then with that thought another memory flashed behind her eyes, the look on the Nogitsune’s face when it ripped out Aidan’s heart and her body nearly lurched in Stiles’ arms as she tensed and clutched him tighter, a strangled noise leaving her throat, muffled by his shirt. “I want to leave, I want to leave.” She repeated the words, shakily, her hospital gown shifting as she shifted even closer to him trying to use Stiles to banish the images in her head.   
  
Stiles felt her shudder in his arms and tighten her grip on him a little and he couldn’t understand why she wanted him near her. He didn’t know how this was going to help her, didn’t know how he was going to be able to help her deal with memories of his that she shouldn’t be experiencing. Memories that he didn’t want to experience. But they were his memories. He was going to be haunted by them for the rest of his short life -- _three years tops_ \-- but he deserved that.   
  
He’d done so many terrible things that he hadn’t had time to begin processing all of them yet. And for Lydia’s mind to be assaulted by those things…   
  
Even if she knew -- and he knew she knew -- that he was responsible for torching the asylum, for trying to kill Scott and getting Allison instead, for setting up a bomb at the sheriff’s station, for killing Aidan, for terrorizing the town in general -- the knowledge that she was _seeing_ those images, seeing him actually doing those things, was enough to make him wish he’d just died instead. She shouldn’t have to be dealing with this. None of them should.   
  
If only Chris hadn’t hesitated to pull the trigger that night at the river. It would have solved so many things for everyone involved.   
  
Lydia sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing her eyes shut and pushing the images away, guilt sitting heavy in her chest. She still blamed herself for Aidan’s death, even if no one else did. It was something Lydia would carry with her forever. Lydia let out a shaky breath trying to focus on the present, on what was happening right now. “I need clothes…” she whispered against his shoulder. “And then we can go...Stiles,” her breathing hitched, “I’m so sorry I didn’t understand, I’m sorry I didn’t stop the Nogitsune before it got you. They tried to warm me...tried to tell me what was happening, but,” she swallowed heavily.   
  
“But I just didn’t understand. Please forgive me...” Lydia would never forgive herself for that either. Maybe if she had tried harder to figure out what she was screaming about and what the voices were whispering Stiles never would have been possessed by the Nogitsune.   
  
“We brought you some. Scott still has them,” he told her quietly, pulling away to look at her when she started apologizing. “Lydia. No. _No._ Look at me, okay?” He reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand, feeling sick at the sight of the guilt in her eyes. God, like she had _anything_ to feel guilty about in this situation? She hadn’t done anything wrong. It had all been him.   
  
“Look, this thing...I think that it came back with me the night of the ritual.” He shook his head. “I think it’s been in me for a long time.” _Months. Slowly eating away at him like cancer._ “It isn’t anything that you did or didn’t do.” He knew that for a fact. “It was just dormant for awhile. One way or another it would have all…” He looked down, his throat tightening as he struggled with words. “It would have taken control eventually. There’s nothing any of us could have done to stop it.”   
  
Lydia shook her head. “No, no they were warning me it was taking over, so I could help you stop it before it clutched onto you completely,” she said gripping his arms tightly, her small hands curling around his skin. “When I used the foxfire, when I got rid of him...I _saw_ what they were telling me, the door, and the Nogitsune, and you. I could have helped, I should have helped,” her voice was growing louder, her words edged in some kind of panic.   
  
“Lydia, Lydia, shhhh,” he whispered, cupping her face in both of his hands as tears prickled his eyes when her voice rose with panic. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay, okay? Everything’s going to be okay.” No, he didn’t believe it, really, but it was what she needed to hear. She needed to believe that he believed it even if he didn’t.   
  
Derek and Scott ducked their heads into the room and worry creased their brows. Scott was the first to speak, “Is everything okay?” He asked quietly. He and Derek could hear them talking, not that they were listening, but when Lydia’s voice jumped an octave and started getting hysterical Scott thought it was time for them to see if everything was okay.   
  
His chest tightened as he looked over his shoulder to see Scott and Derek there both looking concerned. He swallowed hard, shaking his head because he felt as helpless now as Scott had just a few minutes before when Stiles had his panic attack.   
  
Derek shifted forward. “I think it would probably be a good idea if we let Lydia get dressed and maybe Scott calls his mom so she can help us get her discharged.” He said glancing between Stiles and Scott, “They’ve already sedated her once,” he said quietly before hesitating, “If we keep her here any longer I have a feeling they might not let her leave so willingly.” He told them stiffly.   
  
Another stab of guilt hit Stiles at Derek’s admission that they’d had to sedate his beautiful strawberry-blonde once already. God how was this fair in any way?   
  
Scott’s brows drew together at Derek’s words, but he knew the other wolf was right. He hated to say it, but Lydia looked a little...not in touch with reality at the moment and he didn’t think the doctors would have any qualms with keeping her for observation. He shifted and reached outside the door for the bag that he’d run back out to the car and got.   
  
He stepped forward and held it out to Stiles, “Her stuff.” He said as his chest tightened. God he hoped this wasn’t permanent; his best friend would never forgive himself if Lydia stayed the way she was.   
  
Stiles forced himself to take a deep breath. “Hey, Lyds? We need you to get dressed now, okay? And then we’re gonna get out of here.” He didn’t really care if they discharged her or not. This was his fault and he wasn’t going to let them do anything to Lydia because of the state she was in. “Does that sound okay?” He searched her eyes, chest painfully tight. He managed to give her a tiny smile even if it didn’t reach his eyes.   
  
Lydia nodded, “Yes.” She said as she watched Scott and Derek start to walk back to the door. She swallowed hard and forced the emotions stirring in her chest back down, “Thank you,” she called out making Derek pause. He glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow arched in question.   
  
“For staying...I heard you, I followed your voice back...The greatest victory is that which requires no battle.” She repeated and surprise crossed Derek’s face. “You told me Stiles needed me...so I found you.” She said simply.   
  
Derek’s adams apple bobbed as he watched Lydia his chest tightening, “You’re welcome...We’ll be right outside. Get dressed okay?” He said his tone softer than usual as he gripped Scott’s shoulder and lead him out of the room.   
  
Stiles looked between Lydia and Derek, not entirely sure what Lydia had just quoted, but knowing it was something important. Something Derek had told her while she was sleeping. Or something he’d read to her because Ms. McCall had mentioned he’d been doing that as she slept.   
  
He watched the pair head out of Lydia’s room and rose to his feet.   
  
Lydia glanced back at Stiles lifting her hand and brushing the hair away from her face in a very Lydia like fashion, but her hand quivered, not holding its usual steadiness. “Will you stay?” She asked reaching for the bag.   
  
Stiles paused at her words and seeing her hand tremble. He reached out and covered it with his, giving it a gentle squeeze before moving the bag closer to her. “Yeah, I will. I’ll just uh --” He turned around so his back was to her and he shut his eyes tightly.   
  
“So uh, while you were sleeping, you’ll never guess what happened. I’m pretty sure that Scott’s mom asked my dad out on a date. They went and saw a movie in the theaters. Like at night. That’s a date right? Do you think that qualifies as a date?”   
  
Lydia opened the bag her lips quirking up at the corner, the motion feeling almost out of place because of how long it had been since she dared to smile at anything. “It’s definitely a date,” she said her voice soft, but warm as she searched through the bag and found a fresh pair of panties, a blouse and some skirts.   
  
Lydia tugged the hospital gown over her head and tossed it on the bed reaching for the clean panties and changing those first before she went for the blouse, not seeing a bra. It didn’t matter though they were just going back to Stiles’ house. “They’ve been spending a lot of time together,” she commented letting her mind drift to the time Stiles wasn’t around and she and the sheriff were staying at Scott’s.   
  
Lydia pulled the green blouse over her head and then stepped into the short brown skirt. “Your dad and I spent a few nights at Scott’s. His mom was really nice...she took care of your dad and Derek and me…” Lydia felt moisture prickle in the corner of her eyes and once again the slight hitch in her breathing was louder than she’d intended. “I think they got closer...I wouldn’t be surprised.” She told him her voice soft and low as she brushed at her eyes quickly and then zipped up the side of her skirt.   
  
He hadn’t really thought that much about what everyone had been doing while he’d been possessed. He’d been too busy stressing over the things that he himself had done while he’d been possessed. He knew, of course that they’d all been working to try and find him, to try and stop him -- some by a little bit different means than others, but he didn’t and couldn’t possibly hold that against anyone, considering -- but he hadn’t really thought about where they’d all been staying. What they’d done in between looking for him and trying to stop him.   
  
He rubbed his hands over his face. It made sense of course. Scott had kept true to his word that he’d protect Stiles’ dad, so he wasn’t surprised that Scott and his mom had opened their home to his dad and to Lydia. It was one more thing he’d have to thank his best friend for. Maybe once upon a time he would’ve agreed with Scott that best friends got to wave off things like _thank you_ and _I’m sorry_ but that was before one of them had gone dark side, killed people, destroyed and damaged things, tried to kill the other best friend, and said other best friend had protected his evil friend’s family.   
  
But for the sake of her sanity, Stiles wanted to get Lydia’s mind off of all of that. “Scott and I used to hope they’d end up together. I mean it was a few years after my mom…” He swallowed hard, not really wanting to bring up his mother either, and risk reminding her of the other problem he was facing. “And his parents had been divorced for awhile and frankly his dad’s a ginormous douchenozzle anyway.” His jaw tightened at the thought of Agent McCall. “Anyway, so yeah, we used to talk about what it would be like if my dad and his mom ended up together and getting married. I think part of me -- and him too really -- would still be okay with that happening. I mean, his mom’s been like a second mom to me and my dad would adopt him in a heartbeat if he had the chance.” He was starting to ramble now.   
  
Lydia turned around and stepped forward reaching out gripping the sides of Stiles’ shirt from behind, her body practically pressing against his back as she breathed him in, her eyes fluttering shut as she stayed like that for a minute. “I think that sounds really nice.” She whispered as her head throbbed.   
  
She leaned her forehead forward resting it against his shoulder, “I think your dad and Ms. McCall would be really great together. They care about each other a lot,” she said, the same way she cared about Stiles, except she couldn’t seem to bring herself to tell him that. She wasn’t ready, it wasn’t the right time, not with everything that had just happened.   
  
Stiles swallowed hard as she leaned her head against his back. He let his head drop forward, chin nearly touching his chest as he exhaled. “Yeah, they do.” And his dad was going to need them more than ever when the time came. “I’m not sure I’d be okay with anyone else with my dad,” he admitted.   
  
Lydia slid her eyes shut and the image of the Nogitsune trapping her in classroom, taunting her...and kissing her played behind her eyes. She’d betrayed Stiles with that kiss. A shudder went through her body, and she didn’t even feel the tears sliding down her cheeks as she clenched her hands against Stiles pressing into him more firmly from behind, once again trying to fight the memories slowly disappearing from her mind.   
  
When he felt her shudder, his breath caught in his throat and he didn’t ask if she was dressed before turning around and engulfing her in another hug. He pressed his hand against the back of her head, bringing it to his chest.   
  
Lydia wrapped her arms around Stiles’ midsection holding him to her, mumbling yet again how sorry she was. “Stiles, I, you’re my best friend,” she whispered, “And I really missed you. Can we just promise you’ll never get possessed by another dark spirit?” Lydia asked trying for a joke before her tone grew serious. “Promise not to leave again.” she didn’t think she’d be able to handle it the next time. The throbbing in her head slowing down as some of the tension left her body as she stayed securely in his arms.   
  
Stiles shut his eyes, resting his chin atop her head, though he was caught off guard by her comment. He hadn’t realized she’d thought of him as her best friend. “I missed you, too.” He pressed a kiss to her head without thinking about it. “I missed all of you so much.” Tears stung his eyes but he kept them closed to keep them from falling. How could he promise her that? He wondered, when he knew it wasn’t a promise he could keep? Even if Scott gave him the bite, there was no guarantee that it would work. It might just kill him faster. _Because you’re weak,_ he could still hear Nogitsune’s voice echo in his head.   
  
Lydia’s heart expanded at his words, warmth filling her and she missed his lack of promise to not leave, too involved with what his lips felt like against the side of her head. Lydia kept her face against his shirt for another couple of minutes before tilting her head up, the exhaustion clear on her face. “Can we go before it comes back?” She asked quietly as she leaned into him.   
  
“Yeah. Yeah, come on, let’s get the hell out of here, okay?” He reached down, weaving his fingers through hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze before grabbing her bag with his other hand and leading her toward the door.   
  
Lydia kept a tight grip on his hand as they moved toward the door.   
  
Derek was leaning against the wall, Scott beside him when Lydia and Stiles emerged from the room. Scott pushed himself off the wall quickly and stepped towards Stiles and Lydia, glancing between them noticing the way her whole body turned into Stiles, like she was literally trying to get as close to him as possible.   
  
A small hesitant smile pulled at his lips, “We good to go?” He asked not sure what their plan was as he glanced between them.   
  
Stiles was pretty sure she wasn’t going to be okay long enough to wait on discharge papers. “Yeah, it’s time to split,” he told Scott, letting go of Lydia’s hand long enough to slide it around her waist. He’d always been a pretty tactile person, but he hadn’t realized that Lydia was, too. She just wasn’t normally this open about it. But she wasn’t exactly herself right now and despite how lousy he felt, it had kicked his protective nature firmly into high gear. He met Scott’s eyes, worry flashing in his own.   
  
Scott nodded quickly, seeing Stiles slip back into taking care of Lydia seamlessly gave him hope that maybe things were going to be okay after all. They’d get through this and Stiles would recover...they all would somehow. He pulled the keys to the jeep out of his pockets, “Okay, let’s hurry up then,” he said glancing at Derek. “Are you coming or heading back home?” He asked knowing that Derek might want some time for himself.   
  
“I’ll probably head back to my apartment, but call if you need anything.” He told them.   
  
Lydia reached out with her free hand and squeezed Derek’s arm gently, the action startling him. He turned so he was watching her and her chest tightened at the strange look on his face. “Thank you for keeping me safe and for guiding me back. I--” the words caught in her throat as another wave of images slammed into her making her nauseous.   
  
Her hand jerked up to her head, clutching it tightly. “Get out of my head,” she screeched anger and frustration lacing her words. The sound was loud, but didn’t draw the attention of the nurses down the hall just yet.   
  
Scott sucked in a sharp breath, “We’ve gotta go. Derek thanks again.” He said patting the other man on the back, “I’ll call you soon.” He told him his eyes darting back to Stiles and Lydia. They needed to get her home so she could sleep it off...if it ever stopped.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles looked down at the strawberry-blonde who’d fallen asleep in his arms in his bed. He laid his head back against his headboard, his chest tight and growing tighter the longer he lay there doing nothing to solve this and make it better. After watching her sleep for a little while, he couldn’t lay there idle any longer. He gently shifted her out of his arms so that her head was on his pillow, reaching over and grabbing another pillow for her to wrap her arms around in his place. He pulled the blankets up and over her. “I’m gonna fix this,” he whispered. “I swear to god I’m gonna fix this for you.”   
  
He backed out of his bedroom and headed down the stairs toward the kitchen where he found Scott and Ms. McCall sitting at the kitchen table. “Scott?”   
  
Scott glanced up at the sound of Stiles’ voice. He’d just spent the last twenty minutes filling his mom in on what Derek had told him about Lydia when she first woke up and what happened at the hospital before they left. Not that it really needed to be said, it was clear something wasn’t quite right with Lydia when they’d brought her back to the house.   
  
Scott could feel the anxiety coming from Stiles and his heart went out to his friend. He couldn’t imagine what he was going through. Scott also couldn’t help but wonder if Stiles had his memories back now that Lydia was awake. He hadn’t mentioned anything, but then again they hadn’t really had a chance to talk alone. “Yeah, man?”   
  
“I need to get a hold of Deaton.” His voice was firm. “I don’t have his number, and I don’t...I don’t know what happened to my phone anyway.” Which was sort of true. He’d given it to Chris Argent the night he’d begged the man to kill him. But he didn’t know if Chris still had it or even remembered that he had it, or what had happened to it.   
  
Scott’s brows drew together, “Do you think he’ll know how to fix what’s wrong with Lydia?” He asked as he shifted in his seat and dug into his pocket until his fingers curled around his cell phone. He tugged it out of his pocket and slid his finger over the screen. Scott scrolled through the phone until he came to Deaton’s number, “Do you want me to call? Or do you want to?” He asked holding the phone out for his friend.   
  
“I’m not sure he’s gonna wanna talk to me after the last time. Would you…” He winced, then shook his head. “I’ll do it.” He reached out and took the phone from Scott, hitting the call button on the phone and willing his voice to stay calm and not let the anger and frustration seep into it while he talked to the older man.   
  
Deaton was in the middle of stocking vaccines in the mini refrigerator when his phone rang. He glanced over his shoulder and considered not answering it for a minute, but the insistent ringing made him feel like it was important. He put the last vile down and then move towards his phone, reaching forward and answering it. “Hello?” He said lightly into the phone. “It’s Stiles.” He forced himself to take a deep breath, moving farther away from the kitchen. “Lydia woke up last night.” He chewed on his lower lip, knowing he had to be careful what he said since his best friend had werewolf super hearing and was most likely paying attention. “She woke up screaming. And she has my memories. And she shouldn’t, so what can we do about that?”   
  
Deaton was surprised to hear from Stiles, though when it came to Lydia, he probably shouldn’t be. He frowned at Stiles’ words. “She’s awake and she has your memories,” he repeated his brows furrowing. “What is her mental state like?” He inquired as he made his way over to his bookshelves.   
  
“Not so great. Like not great at all. She’s upset pretty much any time she’s conscious, to the point that she had to be sedated at the hospital earlier today. I can’t let her deal with this so I need you to please tell me how to fix this.” He shut his eyes.   
  
Deaton was silent for a minute. He turned away from his bookshelf not needing any references for what was wrong with the young banshee. He walked to his desk and sat down. “The reason Lydia still has your memories is because when she pulled the Nogitsune into her body, she pulled everything from you into her.” He explained.   
  
“Lydia most likely got lost in those memories while she was unconscious and something must have brought her back so quickly that she wasn’t able to separate herself from the memories before regaining consciousness.” Deaton told Stiles as he sat on the corner of his desk. “She feels things different than we do and the emotions are likely overwhelming her mind.”   
  
Deaton knew he hadn’t gotten to the point yet and Stiles was probably getting anxious. “There’s a simple fix, but it might take a day or two and it’s going to leave Lydia a bit weak. You need to bring her into a meditative state, where the only thoughts she hears are her own and once she gets to the right point you’ll know because she’ll have the urge to scream. Tell her to follow the urge and scream.” He said his fingers tapping against the desk.   
  
Stiles forced himself to take a deep breath, listening intently to what Deaton was saying. He screwed up a lot. More times than he could ever even count. But this he couldn’t screw up. This he had to get 100 percent right. This was Lydia’s life. Her _mind_. She needed him to fix this so she could be herself again, the way she’d fixed him and returned him to himself.   
  
“Once she screams it should clear her mind of everything to do with the Nogitsune and she’ll be back to her normal self.”   
  
“Okay. Meditative state. Got it. Anything else? Circle of salt? What am I supposed to do in this ritual?” He really needed Deaton to give him some kind of task. Any kind of task. He just needed to be involved.   
  
Deaton almost laughed at Stiles questions. _Almost_. “There needs to be a physical connection between the two of you, hand holding would work well. It might take more than the first time to get her to focus her thoughts though, so be patient.” He said.   
  
“Right. Hand holding. Okay.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Should this be done under a full moon or anything? Does that matter? I know that matters in some rituals.”   
  
Deaton cocked his head to the side even though Stiles couldn’t see him and shifted the phone in his hand, “No. It can be done at any time. You need a quiet space though. No interruptions.”   
  
“Okay. That’s easy. That should be easy to pull off.” He exhaled. “All right. Thanks, Deaton.” He hesitated. “I’m sorry. About before. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that.”   
  
Deaton smiled as he once again shifted the phone to his other ear, “It’s a scary thing to think that someone you care for is hurting,” he said with understanding. “Might I inquire as to how you’re doing?” He asked shifting forward wondering if Stiles had gotten his memories back now that Lydia was awake.   
  
“I’m all right. Feeling better every day.” What a joke, he thought. “Still tired, but...I guess that’s normal right? I read that’s normal after you’ve been possessed,” especially when you’d been possessed for as long as he had been.   
  
“It’s normal,” Deaton agreed. He was quiet hesitating for a minute as he shifted the phone to his other hand, “I know you don’t always like my methods, but if you were to need something during your recovery to help ease the transition, there are several different kinds of memory suppressants that I could provide you with,” he paused glancing down at his feet as his brows drew together, his grip tightening on the phone, “Dealing with the aftermath of having a dark spirit take over your body...having to live with the things he’s done with your face...it’s a burden someone so young shouldn’t have to bare.”   
  
Stiles held his breath at the older man’s words, casting a glance toward the kitchen where his best friend and his best friend’s mom were sitting. “It’s not an issue right now, but I will definitely keep it in mind.” He hoped that his heart hadn’t skipped a beat to alert Scott to the fact he’d just lied. Or that if it had, that he was wrong and Scott wasn’t listening at all. Or that he was listening but only to his end of the conversation. “Thanks, Deaton.”   
  
Deaton supposed that answered that question. “Well then let me know how things go with Lydia and if you need anything else,” he said pushing himself away from his desk and walking back out in the main examination room in the back.   
  
“I will. Thanks,” he told him, hesitating and then hanging up the call. He stood in the living room for a moment, staring at the fireplace blankly.   
  
Scott shifted his focus to his mom when he heard Stiles hang up the phone. If he hadn’t been so distracted he probably would have heard the skip in his friend’s heartbeat, but as it was he was barely able to focus on what his mother was saying. He shook himself out of his thoughts and glanced at his mom, “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He said with a tired smile.   
  
Melissa frowned and reached out cupping her son’s cheek. “Are you okay sweetheart, you seem tired. Have you been sleeping okay?” She asked.   
  
Scott shrugged, “On and off...there’s just a lot going on and I want to make sure Stiles is okay, and I still have to check in on Allison and Isaac and tell them Lydia is awake,” he let his voice trail off. “There’s a lot to do,” he told her. And he had to do it because he was the alpha...he needed to start helping everyone rebuild what they’d lost.   
  
Stiles paused just outside the kitchen, catching the tail end of Scott’s conversation with his mother. He rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. His best friend wasn’t sleeping. Something else he’d been the cause of. His karmic debt pile seemed to be piling up to infinite levels and he couldn’t help but wonder if it was ever going to be possible to work that kind of thing off. Somehow he couldn’t help but feel doubtful. Swallowing hard, he forced a tiny smile onto his face and moved inside, holding the phone out. “Thanks, Dude. Sounds like it’s gonna be an easy fix, so score one for that.”   
  
Scott glanced up and smiled as he took the phone, “I’m glad, you deserve that much after everything,” he joked with a slight laugh as he slid his phone into his pocket and then rubbed the back of his neck. “Since schools finally over I was thinking of stopping by the Argents place real quick. I uh- I haven’t checked on Allison in a while and I’m sure she’s going to want to know Lydia is awake.” There was still a pretty thick tension between him and Allison because of her taking her father’s side over his when it came to how to deal with Stiles.   
  
Stiles didn’t agree. He didn’t deserve to have _anything_ come easy. But this time it wasn’t about him. It was about Lydia and getting her back to normal. Because _she_ certainly didn’t deserve to be going through this. Not after everything she’d already been through. “That’s a good idea,” Stiles told Scott, nodding.   
  
Melissa reached out and rested a hand on her sons arm. “Check in on Isaac for me too please,” she told him as she glanced at Stiles and smiled warmly. “I’m thinking lasagna for dinner tonight, how does that sound?”   
  
Stiles looked over at Ms. McCall, nodding. “Sounds really good, actually. And you always make the best lasagna.”   
  
Stiles paused briefly, “Maybe we should all get together for dinner or something once Lydia’s back to normal.” He dreaded seeing Allison again, seeing Isaac. And Chris. The thought made his stomach turn. But he had to start helping the pack put things back together. To make them stronger again. They needed it. And he needed to help out. “You know, maybe invite Derek, too. If he’s comfortable with the idea.”   
  
Surprise filled Scott’s face and he stared at his best friend for a minute before realizing he was staring. “Yeah...yeah that might be a good idea, getting everyone together.” The tightness in his chest eased a bit, maybe Stiles really was getting better. He seemed to be doing okay so far and Scott was thankful. “I’ll talk to her about it and we might want to start Derek out with just immediate family dinners,” he joked letting a genuine smile shine through for Stiles. God, he really had missed his best friend.   
  
Stiles gave Scott his best reassuring smile, gripping his shoulder momentarily when Scott smiled back at him a smile he hadn’t seen from him in ages. It was both comforting and heartbreaking in different ways, and for different reasons.   
  
Melissa smiled, “You boys can invite Derek anytime you’d like,” she said pushing her chair back and getting up to start getting dinner ready for later, knowing her way around the Stilinski kitchen like she did her own.   
  
Scott glanced at him mom, “Maybe I’ll-”   
  
A loud terrified scream erupted from upstairs startling Scott and Melissa and making everyone jerk their heads in the direction of the stairs where Stiles’ bedroom was.   
  
The sound of Lydia screaming had him letting go of Scott and taking the stairs two at a time with the expertise of someone who’d done the same thing in a rush on multiple occasions.   
  
“Lydia!” He burst into his bedroom, chest tightening when he saw her thrashing against the sheets. He crossed the room in seconds, reaching out and gathering her into his arms. “Hey, Lydia. It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay,” he whispered.   
  
The feel of cool hands tight on her skin and soft words startled Lydia awake right as Scott and Melissa burst through the door. Lydia blinked her body shivering and when her eyes focused on Stiles a brief minute of panic surged inside of her and she jerked away from him. “No,” she gasped.   
  
Stiles immediately let go of her when she shuddered, pulling away from him with a horrified expression on her face. He was across the room, back against the wall right as the McCall’s came in. The expression on his face was stricken, guilt-ridden, all color drained from his face. God. He’d never wanted to see Lydia look at him like that. _How can she not, murderer?_ a voice inside of his head whispered, sounding a lot like Scott’s dad.   
  
It took Lydia a minute to focus enough for her to realize she was awake and it was Stiles in front of her not the Nogitsune.   
  
Lydia blinked, “Stiles?” She shifted her heartbeat finally slowing down. She caught sight of Scott and his mother and she swallowed hard her gaze darting back to Stiles noticing the look on his face. Lydia’s chest tightened and she frowned. “What happened? What’s going on?” She pushed herself off the bed standing on shaky legs and taking several steps towards Stiles, reaching out to him, needing the reassurance of his touch.   
  
Stiles shut his eyes at the confusion on Lydia’s face as she climbed out of bed. His heart was pounding hard in his chest as his mind flashed back to the moment he’d cornered her in school. How he’d trapped her against the door, taunting her. Saying terrible things to her, that while he might have thought them in passing, he never in a million years wanted to say to her. He’d never wanted to hurt Lydia in any way and he had and now how could he even hold a grudge against Jackson for the terrible things he’d said and done to her throughout their entire relationship?   
  
He remembered the Nogitsune taunting him even as he kissed her, telling him all the terrible things he was going to do to her. Not then, but it was on the thing’s very long list of horrible things it was planning. And it would have eventually happened. God, how could he even be anywhere around her, knowing that?   
  
Scott looked away from Stiles, his chest tight. “Are you okay Lydia?” He asked quietly, “Do you need anything? Water or something?” He asked not sure what to do as he glanced between the redhead and his best friend.   
  
Lydia wasn’t even looking at Scott as she shook her head, “Just Stiles,” she said softly not sure what had put that look on his face, but not liking it one bit.   
  
Stiles swallowed hard, opening his eyes again and struggling not to look like he wished he could sink into the floor. His brown eyes met her green ones even in the semi-darkness in the room and he managed to force a small, reassuring smile onto his face. “You screamed. It just startled me. It’s fine.”   
  
Lydia frowned, “You left me,” she said quietly, “You promised.” she took a step closer to him. “Please don’t leave,” she wasn’t sure why it felt like he was lying to her, but Scott was there and Ms. McCall was there. This was their Stiles, not the Nogitsune and he wouldn’t lie to her. She pressed herself against his chest, resting a hand on his arm, “When you leave...he comes,” she whispered, “Stiles help me,” she said softly as her hand clenched around his arm. Lydia knew no one was actually there. She killed the Nogitsune, but her head...it felt like he was there with all the memories and thoughts that kept popping in even things that didn’t happen, but could have. Somehow being near Stiles calmed the memories and let her rest, almost like his presence was enough to remind her that everything was okay now.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, hesitantly reaching out and laying a hand on her shoulder. “I had to talk to Dr. Deaton. He knows how to fix this.” His eyes were sad as he gazed at her, feeling her fingers curl around his arm a little more tightly. “We can fix this, Lydia. And you won’t have to…” He grimaced. “Be seeing those things.”   
  
Scott frowned at Stiles, something wasn’t right. His heart was beating too fast and he was barely touching Lydia. Something that he’d noticed about his friends over the past few months was how much they seemed to lean on each other. The touches were friendly, careful, and many. It just seemed to be how they communicated, which was why seeing Stiles keep his distance was a strange sight. Lydia’s voice pulled Scott from his thoughts.   
  
“Thank god,” she said with a sigh. “Are we fixing it now?” Lydia asked as she slid her hand down his arm until she was able to curl her fingers around his. “I’m tired,” she told him tilting her head to the side, “You look tired too...should we fix it later instead?”   
  
Stiles felt Scott’s eyes on him, knew that he was suspicious and he had to be careful. He drew in a breath, squeezing Lydia’s hand gently. “Maybe we should just go ahead and work on it now. Unless you’re too tired. We can wait if you’re too tired.” Because no way in hell was he about to sleep.   
  
Lydia shook her head, “Now is good.” She wanted this things memories out of her head so she could stop acting as crazy as she felt.   
  
Melissa pursed her lips, “Do you two need anything from us?” She wasn’t sure what they had to do, but it never hurt to ask. She hated to see them struggling the way they were.   
  
Stiles turned to look at Ms. McCall, shaking his head. “We just need to be in a quiet place, uninterrupted. So we can do this and uh...she’s gonna have to scream, so…” His gaze darted to Scott. “Might be a good time to go visit Allison and Isaac.” His voice grew quieter.   
  
Scott winced and nodded, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He hesitated, “I’ll be back though.” He told them sending Stiles one last look before ducking out of his best friend’s room. He was probably just reading into things too much.   
  
Melissa watched Scott go before turning back to Stiles and Lydia. They had mentioned the girl’s propensity for screaming, she supposed she’d finally get to hear what it was all about. “Okay, well I’ll leave you two kids to it then, but remember if you need me I’m just downstairs.” She told them pointedly.   
  
“Thanks, Ms. McCall,” Stiles told her quietly, offering her a small smile. “I don’t know how long this’ll take. Just...don’t be alarmed by the screaming, okay? Just part of the fixing it thing.” He didn’t dare utter the word _ritual_ because it had quickly become one of Stiles’ least favorite words in the English language.   
  
Melissa chuckled and nodded, “Got it,” she said feeling slightly better than before about Stiles state of mind as she stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.   
  
Stiles watched her go, then turned his attention back to Lydia once more. “Okay, so Deaton said we needed to basically quiet our minds, and get into a meditative state. And then when you’re ready, you’ll feel it. You’ll need to scream then.” He squeezed her hand.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “How?” She asked. If she knew how to quiet everything going on in her head this wouldn’t be an issue. She sighed, “I don’t know how. I want to make everything quiet, I just...there’s so much.”   
  
He gazed at her. “Maybe some music would help. Like something without lyrics. And maybe candles. Kinda sets the mood for meditation, you know?”   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow her hand pulsing around his arm gently, “For meditation or a romantic evening?” She asked a hint of amusement coming through her tone making her sound more like herself than she had in weeks.   
  
A quiet, surprised noise escaped him at her question. “Uh.” He swallowed hard. He didn’t really know how to respond to that.   
  
“It was a joke,” she offered with a sigh stepping back from him. The minute she released his arm and put distance between them a strange anxiety built in her chest. What the hell was wrong with her? Lydia brought her hand up to her head and rubbed it gently as she closed her eyes. “Music is good,” she said finally, “Something soft maybe...I don’t know.”   
  
Stiles watched as she pulled away. “Right, sorry. My brain is still foggy from sleep, you know?” Not that he’d actually slept recently. He moved over to his iPod, scrolling through it and turning a relaxation playlist on that he’d been using to try and soothe his nightmares before things had gotten so much worse. “How’s this?”   
  
Lydia heard the soft sounds start to travel through the room and she nodded. She opened her mouth but before she could say anything another memory flashed through her head and she squeezed her eyes shut. It was getting worse. Lydia took a deep breath, “Stiles,” her voice was soft and shaky, “I-” she wasn’t sure what to say. She didn’t know what she needed outside of him. “Can you--will you sit with me?” She asked reaching out her hand to him.   
  
Stiles took her hand instantly, moving over to sit beside her on the mattress. “Hey it’s gonna be okay. It’s all gonna be gone soon, okay?”   
  
Lydia nodded. She squeezed his hand and then slid back on the bed until she was sitting cross legged in the middle of the comforter. “Help me relax?” She asked softly tugging him gently wanting him to move closer.   
  
He drew in a breath, shifting on the bed as well and keeping hold of her hand. He shifted so that he was facing her, taking her other hand in his, as well. He hadn’t lit candles, but he was starting to feel anxious about getting this over with so she wouldn’t be suffering. He rubbed his thumbs over the back of her hands soothingly. Their knees were touching, as well. He smiled faintly. “We’ll fix this, Lyds.”   
  
She returned his smile with a tired one of her own. “I know...you always fix things,” she said keeping her voice low as she took several deep breaths and let them out slowly focusing on the feel of his thumb rubbing over her skin.   
  
His heart hurt at that. Maybe he used to fix things. Or try to fix things. But he had so much to fix now that it was overwhelming. It didn’t mean he was going to quit trying, though.   
  
Lydia’s eyes fluttered shut and she felt some of the tension draining from her body, “That feels nice,” she commented softly, keeping her focus on Stiles and nothing else, doing her best to push aside the chatter in her head.   
  
“Yeah, it does,” he murmured, letting his eyes drift closed as well, feeling the warmth and weight of her hands in his calming him, as well.   
  
Lydia focused on the slightly rough pad of Stiles’ thumb, the way his digit slipped over her skin methodically. Steady and reassuring. Her body shifted forward, putting their knees flush against each other as she rested their entwined hands on her lap. They stayed like that for a while and Lydia wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when the voices started to quiet down hope surged in her chest. “Stiles I think it’s working,” she whispered, tightening her grip on his hands.   
  
“Good,” he whispered, doing his best to clear his own mind, as well. “Just breathe. You’ll feel it when it’s time.” He continued the motion of his thumbs against her skin, not even sure why he was doing it but feeling like he needed to _keep_ doing it. It was helping him to focus, too, though he wasn’t sure how that worked.   
  
Lydia continued her deep breathing and her body grew heavy. And then suddenly everything was quiet. Her eyes blinked open and she froze when she found herself standing in an empty white room. Lydia spun around taking everything in, but there was nothing anywhere through the large expanse of white room aside from a door to the back. And it was sealed shut. Her brows furrowed, “Hello?” she called out quietly, but there was no answer. She took a step forward her bare feet hitting the cool white floor. Where was she? What happened to Stiles?   
  
She felt her heart picking up speed even as she told herself to calm down. Was she sleeping? Lydia had no clue. Her chest felt heavy and she placed a hand against it. She stopped moving as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Lydia swallowed hard turning her body slowly coming face-to-face with the thing wearing Stiles face. The evil glint in his eyes and the lopsided smirk on his face made her heart clench and then she felt it, building in her throat.   
  
Lydia’s head jerked back shaking the bed she and Stiles were sitting on. She sucked in a deep breath and let loose a scream louder than night she’d defeated the Nogitsune. Her face was screwed up in pain, her hands clenched tight around Stiles’, as her lungs pushed out her scream. Glass cracked, as the energy in the house vibrated around them, the sound filling the late afternoon at a decibel that could be heard by a certain set of people from miles away.   
  
Lydia’s lungs burned with the need for oxygen and as the scream died down she felt her body waver as she fought to stay upright, the force of the scream knocking more than just the wind out of her.   
  
At the same time Stiles wasn’t sure what was happening. One moment he was sitting with Lydia on his bed, trying to get both of them to relax enough that they could hit a meditative state and Lydia could literally _scream_ memories -- _his_ memories -- out of her head. And the next he was standing in the woods. Distantly he was aware that this wasn’t exactly real. He wasn’t really standing in the woods, except it sure felt like he was standing in the woods. He could feel the cool night air prickling at his skin making him wish he was wearing his jacket.   
  
He looked around and it took him a moment to recognize his surroundings. He knew this place. Why did he know this place? At first he thought he was near Malia’s coyote den, but no. This was another familiar place. _The Nemeton,_ he realized, his heart skipping a beat as he slowly moved toward it. He could still feel pressure on his hands, but when he looked at them, he saw nothing out of place.   
  
Stiles held his breath as he approached the old dead tree stump, watching as thousands of fireflies began to emerge from the cracks. He suddenly remembered reaching out, plunging his fist into the Oni’s chest and ripping out its heart -- one of the fireflies. He watched as the Oni began to form in front of him and he backed away nervously. What was happening? He wasn’t possessed anymore, and they shouldn’t be coming for him. Not _now_. Not unless they were coming for revenge for their dead comrades. The ones he’d killed.   
  
“Please don’t,” he whispered. “I’m not -- I’m not possessed anymore.”   
  
They flanked him on either side and his heart began pounding harder, fear wracking his body as he tried to watch them all but there were too many to keep an eye on all at once. One of them reached out, putting a hand on his head and Stiles felt a cold chill flood his body. He tried to scream but he couldn’t manage it. It felt like the Oni was draining his very life force right out of him - or what little was left of it, anyway. The best he could manage was a whimper as his body slowly sank onto the ground. Distantly he heard the screaming.   
  
And then everything went black.   


______

  
  
Melissa was in the middle of washing dishes when the scream sounded through the house, her hands immediately going to her ears, her eyes widening as things shook around her. She jerked her head up to the ceiling as fear filled her despite Stiles’ warnings. She dropped her hands and turned running for the stairs.   


______

  
  
Derek wrapped a towel around his waist as he got out of the shower, glad to finally be back in his own place again. He had just stepped into the main room of the loft when a sharp cry tore through the silence of his apartment bringing him to his knees. Pain ripped into his ears as he tossed his head back and roared. _Lydia_   


______

  
  
Scott slipped his keys into his pocket and was just stepping into the Argents apartment building when the scream ripped through the air around him. He sucked in a sharp breath and fell to the ground, his head feeling like it was going to explode. His heart pounded as his eyes changed, fangs emerging. Beneath the current of Lydia’s scream he heard Derek and Isaac. When the sound broke he sucked in sharp breath and fear settled in the pit of his stomach. He pushed himself up and ran back to the his bike. He needed to get to Stiles and Lydia, everything else could wait.


	3. Chapter 3

Isaac paced the length of the Stilinski living room, his long fingers tapping lightly against his side. Two hours. It had been two hours since he dragged Allison out of the house following the sound of Lydia’s scream. He was anxious and not just because Lydia and Stiles were apparently in some kind of comatose state. But because this was the first time he and Allison had been around the whole group since the Nogitsune possessed Stiles.   
  
Derek’s eyes followed Isaac’s movements and finally he couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you stop?” He said breaking the silence in the room. “We’re all anxious, just sit.” He pointed to the open spot on the couch near Allison.   
  
Isaac sighed and walked over to the couch letting his body drop beside Allison shaking the whole couch.   
  
And then the room was silent again. The sound of a key outside drew everyone’s attention to the door. Sheriff Stilinski pushed open the door, came inside and closed the door behind him. He shrugged off his jacket, hung it up and then turned around to head to the kitchen, freezing when he saw his living room full of people. Michael cocked his head to the side, “Do I want to know?”   
  
Melissa picked that moment to come down the stairs, worried expression on her face as she met the worried expressions on everyone else’s faces as she looked around. Then she realized they were all looking at the front door where Michael Stilinski had just walked in. She exhaled, relieved to see him, but also worried because she knew how much stress he’d been under for so many weeks now. Longer than that, really. “Why don’t I make coffee?” she suggested with a faint, tired smile.   
  
Michael glanced between the kids and Melissa. He nodded as he walked over to her. “Not that I’m complaining, but is there a reason my house is full of werewolves?” He asked curiously placing his hand on the small of Melissa’s back and guiding her into the kitchen. “Where’s Stiles?” He asked concern coloring his features.   
  
She turned to face him as soon as they were in the kitchen and put a comforting hand on his arm. “First of all, I truly think that he’s going to be fine.” She moved over to the coffee pot and began to set it up before moving back to his side once more. “Secondly...Stiles spoke with Dr. Deaton on the phone earlier today. Lydia woke up last night. And she woke up screaming at the same time that he did.” She was quiet for a moment. “Apparently she has all of Stiles’ memories from when he wasn’t...himself.”   
  
Michael’s eyes widened, his hands reaching out and resting on the back of the chair. “That poor girl,” he said quietly. “I’m glad she woke up for Stiles’ sake though. I know he was really upset that she got hurt saving his life.” He was quiet for a second and he shook his head as a humorless laugh left his throat. “A seventeen year old girl, a banshee, whatever that is, saved my sons life.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead.   
  
Michael glanced at Melissa watching her for a minute before clearing his throat, “I didn’t see them when I came in, where are they?” He asked her as he moved to the cabinet to grab a few mugs.   
  
“They’re upstairs in Stiles’ room,” she said gently. “And they’re unconscious. That’s the other part. The reason Stiles called Deaton was because he wanted to fix it so that Lydia doesn’t have those memories anymore. He gave them a very simple meditative ritual to do, which they did. But they’ve both been unconscious since. Both of their vitals are normal,” she added, not wanting him to worry any more than what was necessary. “I’ve been monitoring them regularly. Right now Scott is sitting with them, listening to both of their heartbeats.”   
  
Michael opened his mouth, but shut it before saying anything. The tension in his shoulders was back in full force. He turned and placed his hands flat on the small circular table and leaned forward. “Is there ever going to be a day where my son isn’t getting knocked unconscious or being possessed by a...whatever,” he sighed. “You’re sure they’re okay?” He asked quietly, his chest tight.   
  
Melissa reached out and placed a hand on his back, rubbing gently. “I know, believe me,” she murmured. “This is not the same world that you and I grew up in. And I’m terrified for our boys...and all of these kids... every day.” She sighed softly. “But yes, physically they appear to be fine.”   
  
Michael reached up and over his shoulder resting his hand on Melissa’s. “Me too,” he said quietly staying silent for a minute before speaking again. “I know I haven’t said it lately, but it means a lot that you’ve been here. I know you’ve got your own stuff...But,” he paused, “Stiles really loves you. So, it’s been good that he’s had you and Scott here. Thanks for taking care of us.” He told her squeezing her hand gently without turning around.   
  
Her eyes were sad as she gazed at him. “You don’t have to say it, Michael. I know you’d be doing the same for Scott and I if the situation was reversed. And Stiles…” She was quiet for a moment. “I know he’s not my son, but I love him like he is and there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do for either of you.” She’d watched Stiles grow up alongside Scott, had been frustrated with him multiple times the same way she had been frustrated with her own son for things. Been proud of him for his grades and achievements, amused by his jokes. And the boys had been inseparable from the first time they’d met.   
  
There had been so many sleepovers and parties and movie fests, marathon video game sessions, family dinners, birthdays, holidays they’d spent together. Stiles wasn’t her own son, but sometimes she felt like he was. She knew now, of course, that he also thought of her that way. He’d called her _mom_ not all that long ago. He was on the verge of passing out and no doubt he didn’t remember it, but he’d uttered it. It had brought tears to her eyes.   
  
Michael shifted, turning around so he was facing Melissa, “You’re the closest thing he has to a mother,” he admitted honestly, “I swear most days I feel like I’ve got two kids,” he said with half a smile. “They’ll always be our boys,” he commented. “And I’ll always be here for you and Scott...even now that Rafael is back in town.” He told her quietly.   
  
“You have been more of a father to Scott than Rafael ever has been, even before he actually left town to begin with,” Melissa said truthfully. “You’re the one who taught him how to drive. You were the one who showed up at his first day of Little League. Sometimes family isn’t just blood, Michael.”   
  
Michael’s chest tightened. He studied Melissa for a minute before leaning in and pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “No, sometimes family is a lot more than that.” He said quietly against her hair. Michael pulled back, rubbing her arm gently. “I’m going to go see if the kids have eaten and maybe order some pizza before I go upstairs to check on the boys.”   
  
She smiled softly at his gesture. “All right. I’ll go up and check on them again myself.” So she was a hoverer. She had reasons to be. She squeezed his arm as she moved past him and out of the kitchen toward the stairs.   
  
Michael watched her go, a small smile on his face before turning and heading back out into the other room. He stepped into the living room and Isaac and Derek immediately straightened up. He arched an eyebrow. “Pizza, or Chinese?” he inquired despite the fact that he had smelled the hint of food the second he walked into the house. Even if Melissa did cook he doubted it would be enough for all of them.   


______

  
  
Scott sat in Stiles’ computer desk chair -- the one he’d bought him as an apology gift shortly after he was first turned since he’d wrecked his last one -- and stared at his best friend’s bed where his best friend and Lydia Martin, his banshee, lay unconscious. They’d been unconscious for hours now and while his mom kept reassuring him that all of their vitals were completely normal, he was scared.   
  
He’d come so close to losing Stiles so many different times lately that as much as he knew he needed to be pulling the entire pack back together, the desire to stay right beside Stiles at all times was almost overwhelming. He’d had Stiles long before he’d had anyone else. Stiles was the first person he considered pack. Allison shortly after. He’d be lying if he said his closest connection wasn’t Stiles. They’d been brothers long before Scott had been a werewolf. And Stiles was always there for him, through everything. Every step of the way. It was Stiles who’d helped him figure out how to keep his emotions in check when he was angry or upset. It was Stiles who’d chained him up on his first full moon to keep him safe. _It was Stiles who had stepped into a puddle of gas when he’d been about to light himself on fire so many weeks ago._   
  
Tears blurred Scott’s eyes and he rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m a crappy alpha,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to keep any of you safe. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He swallowed hard. “I can’t lose any of you.”   
  
Lydia shifted a soft groan leaving her throat, the sound of Scott’s voice stirring her consciousness. Her body felt heavy and a dull throb pounded rhythmically through her head. It took her a minute, but she was finally able to flutter her lashes open, the bright light in the room forcing her to blink several time quickly, letting her eyes adjust.   
  
Lydia’s brows drew together at the sight of the unfamiliar ceiling, but when she turned her head to the side slowly and caught sight of a sleeping Stiles, she sucked in a sharp breath. Stiles was sleeping beside her...he was there. Her heartbeat picked up speed as Lydia reached out hesitantly and ran her hand down Stiles arm even as she pushed herself up into a sitting position very slowly, pushing aside the wave of nausea that hit her. “You’re not a terrible alpha,” she said her voice hoarse.   
  
Scott’s head jerked up at the sound of her voice. He hadn’t caught the slight increase in her pulse when she’d began waking up. He quickly slid his chair closer to the bed. “Easy, Lydia. You’ve been out for a while,” he said, concern in his tone. Stiles’ heartbeat remained unchanged and his chest tightened with worry. But for now he’d focus on the fact that Lydia was awake and talking.   
  
She winced not shifting her gaze from Stiles just yet, “Why isn’t he awake?” She asked before glancing at Scott. “I’m pretty sure whatever Stiles did worked.” She bit her bottom lip as she studied Scott’s face.   
  
Seeing the wince on Lydia’s face, he reached out, gently laying a hand on her arm and concentrating he closed his eyes, drawing out the nausea and feeling of malaise that she was feeling. After a moment, he sat back, more tired now, but he knew it was worth it.   
  
“I’m not sure. Mom says his vitals are okay,” he offered her a small smile.   
  
Lydia felt the pain inside her head ease and her expression softened as she pulled her hand back from Stiles and returned Scott’s smile with a small one of her, “Thanks for that,” she told him softly.   
  
Scott nodded slightly in acknowledgment. “You’re welcome.”   
  
Lydia could see how tired Scott look and her chest tightened. “How are you holding up?” She asked softly.   
  
“I’m all right. Or I will be soon.” His gaze shifted to Stiles again. “How are you feeling? No more bad memories?” Scott asked.   
  
Lydia took a moment to close her eyes and listen, but everything was quiet. When she opened her eyes again Scott was watching her. “I’m feeling good. Tired, but good.” She didn’t attempt to get off the bed just yet. Instead she glanced down and sighed. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Her words were quiet, but she knew Scott could hear them.   
  
He was silent for a moment. “You mean that night?”   
  
Lydia inclined her head. “Yes,” she pursed her lips. “I just, I know how much you care about Stiles, but I also like to think by now I know a bit about your personality,” she responded. “You never would have risked someone else’s life to save him, not unless it was your own and I couldn’t take the chance that you would try and stop me,” Lydia admitted. “It was the only way to save him.”   
  
He was quiet for a long moment. “You’re not wrong,” he said softly. “But I’m glad you didn’t tell me. As selfish as that might be.” Scott looked down at his hands. “I love him. I’d do anything for him. But I know him, and he wouldn’t have been able to --” He paused. “If something had happened to you because of that thing that took him over - he never would have forgiven himself even if it had saved his life. It would’ve killed him.” He looked up at her again, eyes full of sadness. “You know that right? That you mean that much to him, too.”   
  
Lydia glanced down. No, she didn’t know that. Sure Stiles had a crush on her since third grade and yes, she used to think that it was weird, but lately she didn’t mind it so much. But Stiles had also changed, he wasn’t intimidated by her anymore and Lydia recently started feeling like maybe that was because his feelings for her had changed...lessoned even. Her chest tightened, “I think what Stiles and I mean to each other is becoming clearer,” Lydia said diplomatically.   
  
“It all worked out in the end though,” she said softly, “I’m okay and so is he. We should focus on that.” She told him before swallowing heavily. “And it’s not selfish...Loving someone so much you can’t bear to let them go will never be selfish.” She whispered as she stretched slightly her gaze drifting to Stiles once again. “Does he remember?”   
  
What she and Stiles meant to each other was becoming very clear to Scott, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was really prepared for it. He hoped so. Scott reached out and squeezed her arm lightly. He looked at Stiles for a moment, then closed his eyes against the burn of tears there. She pretty much described his relationship with Stiles to a T. “I don’t know. He says he doesn’t.” He pursed his lips. “Do you remember any of it?”   
  
Lydia’s face scrunched with a look of concentration. “Honestly, it’s all a bit foggy.” She admitted as she shifted on the bed carefully not wanting to stir Stiles from sleep. She drew her legs up so she was resting her head on her knees, a very unLydia like action. Curling in on herself wasn’t really her thing. She faced things head on, but Stiles and Scott were the only people in the room.   
  
She didn’t need to be strong and defensive at the moment. Scott had seen her at her weakest points a lot the past few weeks and he never once made her feel bad about them. “I remember feeling like I needed Stiles and I remember what happened before I used Kira’s foxfire to electrocute us, but everything after that...it’s almost like it was a bad dream that’s fading the longer I stay awake,” She admitted.   
  
“You had his memories,” he said softly. “Of what happened. You woke up in the hospital screaming according to Derek.” He hesitated. “And Stiles woke up from a nightmare at the same time, also screaming.” He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I’m glad it’s fading. I can’t imagine that was pleasant.” He sincerely hoped Stiles never remembered what the Nogitsune had done because he wasn’t sure his soft-hearted best friend could handle that kind of guilt.   
  
Lydia frowned. “I had that creepy wanna be Stiles in my head?” She let her legs slide out as she shivered, “Lovely.” She sighed not able to help the way her eyes moved to Stiles again. “How is Derek? He’s been surprisingly social lately, with all the help.” Lydia couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and brushing Stiles’ hair back from his forehead, doing her best not to let the anxiety already building in her chest get any larger.   
  
He smiled faintly at her description. “Yeah, you did,” he said softly. “It’s why you guys did the ritual. Stiles didn’t want it in your head any longer than it had to be.” He swallowed hard, looking at his too-still best friend. “Derek’s okay. He’s downstairs, actually...with the rest of the pack.”   
  
Surprise crossed Lydia’s face as she glanced at Scott her body tensing slightly, “Why?” The words came out harsher than intended and she winced, “Sorry.” She mumbled. “I just,” she hesitated, “It’s been a while since we’ve seen them.” It had been a while since they’d seen Stiles too. Lydia knew they needed to get past what happened, but a part of her was still feeling incredibly protective of Stiles.   
  
“You don’t remember.” Scott sat up a little, arching his eyebrows. “You screamed. That was part of the ritual. It’s what was supposed to rid your mind of the memories. It was the loudest I’ve heard you scream. I was literally across town. I heard it. Isaac and Derek both heard it too. And I felt them. They were terrified,” he said quietly. “Everyone just showed up here.”   
  
Lydia’s chest warmed, “I screamed that loud?” She asked blinking, “I guess that’s why my voice is so sore,” she said before shaking her head. “No...I mean yes,” Lydia rolled her eyes at herself, “I do remember screaming I just...I didn’t know everyone heard it. I screamed because he was there in my head just standing in this creepy white room smirking at me.”   
  
“Yeah, it was that loud. I mean I usually hear you anyway, but this was...something else.” Scott rubbed the back of his neck.   
  
Lydia shivered involuntarily. “Well it’s over now...everyone can finally start to heal.” She shifted forward pulling her hand back from Stiles and reaching out to Scott resting a hand on his arm, “That means you too,” she told him softly. “You’re not a bad alpha,” she repeated her earlier words.   
  
Scott nodded his thanks at her words and swallowed hard. “I’m not really...used to feeling connected to all of you guys yet. It’s different.” His voice was hushed. “I mean alpha-connected. Not connected in general. Obviously I was connected in general because we’re all friends.” He let out a breath, realizing he was starting to ramble.   
  
Lydia nodded understanding what he meant. “I get it and I’m going to tell you something that once it leaves my lips will never be repeated again,” she said arching an eyebrow at him in warning. “These past few weeks...you’ve been my rock. I wouldn’t have been able to help Stiles if you weren’t there helping me. You kept your cool for the most part, you protected everyone that you could and you didn’t give up on Stiles.” Lydia caught Scott’s gaze. “You worked with Derek, kept things from going too far when Isaac and Allison left us, and you made sure we were all safe. You’re a different kind of alpha Scott...you’re what other alphas should emulate.” Lydia paused, “Don’t be so down on yourself.”   
  
He felt a pang of guilt that wasn’t his own and he sighed inwardly as he recognized it as Isaac. “Thanks, Lydia.” He reached out and wrapped his arms around her in a gentle hug.   
  
Lydia returned the hug. “Thanks for keeping him safe while I was out of it.” She rubbed Scott’s back gently before releasing him and shifting back.   
  
“He’s my brother,” Scott said quietly. “In every way that counts.” He looked over at Stiles again, listening as she spoke of the white room, his chest growing tight. But then it registered in Scott’s head that Lydia said something about a white room; he stilled and looked at her. “Creepy white room?” he echoed.   
  
Lydia blinked confused for a second, but then nodded. “Yes, a creepy white room with one door. It was sealed shut and when I turned around the Nogitsune was there. That’s when I felt the scream building in my chest and then well you know the rest.” She said with a shrug.   
  
“We were in that room. Me and Stiles and Allison. After we died in that ritual. It’s where we woke up. It must have been there waiting for us.” He rubbed a hand over his face. He had a sick feeling he knew why it had gone after Stiles out of the three of them.   
  
Lydia’s gaze shifted to Stiles again and her chest tightened at Scott’s words. “What do you think the odds are of the sheriff letting us stay here with him tonight...well letting me stay,” she sent a small grin a Scott, “You’re practically family. I just--” she huffed and flipped her long sleep mussed hair over her shoulder, “the thought of leaving, of putting physical distance between Stiles and myself, it makes me incredibly anxious. Just talking about it makes my chest fill up with the strangest sensation, something I’ve never felt before. It’s disconcerting.” Lydia told Scott matter-of-factly. “And slightly annoying because at some point I’m going to have to shower the last few weeks off me,” she joked trying to lighten the atmosphere in the room.   
  
“I have a feeling that if we mention it to my mom, she’ll convince Stiles’ dad to let all of us stay.” He paused. “Or maybe just you and I.” He wasn’t sure that any of them was really ready for an entire pack sleepover. Not when things were so up in the air with everyone. A faint smirk tugged at his mouth at Lydia’s words. _I’m sure if you asked Stiles he’d be happy to join you in the shower if you’re not wanting a lot of distance between you._ , he thought to himself. He rubbed his hands over his face again, tired. “I feel punchy.”   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow at the smirk on Scott’s face. “Punchy like you need to get up and do something or punchy like you need to go punch someone? Because if that’s the case then I vote no one in this room gets hit, we’re fragile.” She joked, though it was probably true.   
  
“Punchy like...severe lack of sleep and my brain feeling scrambled.” He gave her a wan smile in return for her joke. “Don’t worry. No desire to hit either one of my fragile humans.”   
  
Lydia tilted her head and nodded before glancing at Stiles’ bed. “I’m pretty sure the bed can fit the three of us.” She commented offhandedly, “I get the right side, you can have left.” Lydia offered.   
  
His chest tightened. _Come on Stiles. Wake up, man._ He arched an eyebrow at her suggestion. It was a large bed and none of them were very big people. “I should warn you that Stiles tends to flail in his sleep. You’ll probably wake up with an arm across your face.”   
  
“You need sleep,” Lydia commented before her gaze fell on Stiles a slight smile tugging at her lips. “He does seem like the flailing type. I probably wouldn’t mind,” she admitted her voice softening, her gaze affectionate. “Do you think he can hear us?” She asked quietly the urge to reach out and touch him again strong, but Lydia ignored it. She couldn’t just go around touching Stiles whenever she wanted. That was bordering on creepy.   
  
She wasn’t wrong. He was exhausted. And he knew if he didn’t lay down and sleep soon he’d end up regretting it later. He let out a breath. “Yeah. Yeah. I think so.” He rose from his seat and hesitantly sat down on the edge of Stiles’ bed. “Come on, Stiles. Just wake up for us for a few minutes so we know you’re okay, man.”   
  
As if he’d been waiting for one of them to ask, Stiles’ eyelashes fluttered and his head turned toward Scott, a soft groan escaping him.   
  
Relief crossed Scott’s face as he leaned forward, “Hey man, it’s okay...we’re right here.” he said resting a hand on Stiles arm waiting for his friend to open his eyes. “Are you awake?” He asked his voice quiet, chest tight as he glanced down at his friend.   
  
Lydia was already on her knees on the other side of Stiles watching with bated breath. _Please let him be okay_ , the words flew through her head over and over again as she reached out and rested her hand against Scott’s.   
  
Stiles let out a breath. “Maybe,” he mumbled, not opening his eyes. “Depends on what time it is.” He brought a hand up to his head, grimacing. His head felt like it was going to implode. “It is way too early for school.”   
  
Scott grinned, but it faltered slightly when he saw Stiles’ grimace. He reached out and placed his hand over Stiles’ closing his eyes and focusing on drawing out as much pain as he comfortably could. Scott opened his eyes a minute later, “Any better?” He asked wanting to reach out and hug his friend, but forcing himself to hold back until Stiles got his bearings. He felt Lydia squeezed his hand briefly before she shifted.   
  
“Maybe we shouldn’t crowd him?” She suggested, but made no move to leave his side.   
  
“Thanks, Scottie,” he whispered, lowering his hand from his face and exhaling slowly before opening his eyes. He winced as he pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked from Scott to Lydia, trying to figure out why they were both right there with him. His eyebrows furrowed for a moment and then he remembered. “Did it work?” He looked at Lydia with wider eyes than before.   
  
Scott nodded as Lydia smiled. “It worked,” she tapped her head gently, “Everything’s in the right place again, Nogitsune gone forever dead and buried by my apparently massively loud dominating scream.” She joked nervously not sure why she was even nervous, _what the hell_ , she thought. “What about you, are you okay?” Lydia asked not able to stop herself from reaching out this time as she rested her hand on his leg.   
  
Scott watched their interaction briefly before turning his gaze back on Stiles waiting for his friend’s reply needing to know he was okay.   
  
Stiles watched her for a moment, relaxing at her words, relief evident on his face as he sat back, leaning against the headboard. “Thank god,” he whispered, closing his eyes again. “I’m okay. Tired, but okay.” He reached up and felt behind his ear as he remembered the Oni from before, and he sucked in a breath, eyes flying open. “Were we here the whole time? Did I sleepwalk?” There was alarm in his voice.   
  
Scott frowned, “No, you were here the whole time. Mom found you when you and Lydia passed out...the scream scared the crap out of her, shook the whole house,” he said shifting forward slightly. “The entire pack heard Lydia scream, they’re all downstairs.” Scott motioned to the door. “If you left, one of us would know. Why? What’s wrong?” He asked worry once again invading his features.   
  
Lydia placed her free hand on Scott, the other one still resting on Stiles, “Down boy, let him talk before you panic,” she suggested turning her gaze on Stiles watching as he touched his ear.   
  
“Check my ear,” he whispered, turning his head so Scott could look, his heart beating faster in his chest. “Is there something there? Do you see it? I can feel it; can you see it, Scott?” His voice shook and without thinking about it, he reached out and gripped onto Lydia’s hand tightly. “It’s there, right?”   
  
Scott leaned forward and pressed his thumb against Stiles’ ear and surprise colored his voice, “You’ve been marked...the five-”   
  
“Jiko,” Lydia corrected, “The Japanese character for self.” Lydia squeezed Stiles hand, “You’re yourself again,” she said softly her chest warming.   
  
Scott released Stiles’ ear and grinned. “This is good...this is really good.” He said darting forward and wrapping his arms around his best friend ignoring that his hand was still attached to Lydia’s.   
  
Stiles let go of Lydia’s hand so he could hug Scott tightly. The same way he’d hugged him the night he’d had his MRI. The night the Nogitsune had taken control completely. He owed his best friend so much; he didn’t even know how to begin repaying him. Lydia either, for that matter. No. All of them. The whole pack. Plus his dad and Scott’s mom.   
  
Scott squeezed him tighter, but kept a lid on the werewolf strength not wanting to hurt his best friend. “You have no idea how glad I am that this is over,” he said quietly, not quite able to hide the emotions from his voice. “Dude...I just, I love you man.”   
  
The slight tremor in Scott’s voice made his chest tighten, and tears prickled at his eyelids as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I love you, too, Scott.” His own voice cracked as he spoke.   
  
Scott rubbed his friend’s back, not letting him go just yet. He could finally sleep easy knowing Stiles was okay. He pulled back after a few minutes keeping his hands on Stiles’ arms. “Do you need anything? Mom made lasagna and I’m pretty sure your dad ordered food. Or maybe you’re thirsty I can get you something to drink,” he offered needing to help his friend.   
  
Lydia watched them and she did her best not to let the emotion bubbling in her chest to the surface. She could feel her eyes prickle with tears, but she blinked them away. Lydia was not an emotional wreck anymore and she’d be damned if she started acting like one again.   
  
“No, I think I’m okay.” He hesitated. “I wanna see my dad,” he admitted, looking between them. But he didn’t really want to go downstairs either. He wasn’t sure he could muster up that much energy.   
  
Lydia hesitated before shifting, “I can get him for you if you want,” she suggested as she started to get up, the strange knot of anxiety unfurling inside of her.   
  
Scott reached out gripping her arm gently. “I’ve got it. My mom’s going to want to see him too.” He said remembering what Lydia had mentioned earlier. He didn’t want anyone to be uncomfortable and he knew Stiles was in good hands with Lydia until he got back.   
  
He pushed himself up and held up his fingers, “I’ll be back in two minutes, parents in tow,” he commented with a smile catching Lydia’s grateful look on the way out of the room.   
  
She looked away from the door and ran her hands down her legs needing something to do with them as they waited.   
  
Stiles fell silent as he watched Scott leave his room and then turned his gaze to Lydia. He hesitated a second, then reached out and put a hand on her arm. “Thank you,” he whispered, almost inaudibly. “For everything you’ve done. I wouldn’t still be here if it wasn’t for you.”   
  
Lydia glanced up, “Don’t be dramatic; you would have been fine without me.” She said, but there was absolutely no bite to her words. She rested her hand over his, “You don’t need to thank me.” Lydia caught Stiles’ gaze and she felt her heartbeat jump. She swallowed hard as it picked up speed, “Stiles, I” she whispered his name and then paused, “We’re friends,” she said finally, “That’s what friends do. You’ve been there for me too.” She said ignoring the frantic pounding of her heart. Lydia wasn’t even going to think about what she had planned to say. She and Stiles were friends, close friends and that was all.   
  
One corner of his mouth turned up at her comment. “I don’t know. You’ve literally saved my life twice now. Scott better watch out or he’ll be in competition for a new pack alpha.” The fact that he knew his best friend would have heard that made him smirk faintly as he looked down at their hands. “I know. It means a lot. I mean that was...a pretty ballsy thing for you to do, Lydia.” His voice dropped.   
  
Lydia’s eyes followed his toward their hands. She slid her fingers between his clasping their hands together. “Watch out Scott, roar,” she mocked growled amusement in her eyes. “I’m a pretty ballsy kind of girl,” she told him. “Besides...It was you, how could I not?” She asked softly before her words registered in her head, “Because you-- you mean so much to everyone, and to Scott.” She added wondering if maybe she was in some kind of alternate universe where Stiles Stilinski actually made her a little bit nervous. _Never, it was a fluke_.   
  
He smiled faintly at her mock roar. “Yes, you are,” he agreed. “Always have been in one way or another. Since we were kids.” He didn’t look up, and if he caught her slip up, he didn’t comment on it. He had to figure out how he was going to do this. How he was going to go about every single day with the overwhelming amount of guilt that he felt for the things he’d done. It was terrifying to even think about. “Scott’s my brother. Doesn’t matter that we’re not blood related.” Scott had always been the one person aside from his father that he knew he could count on. He’d die for Scott. He’d die for any of them. “Ever since we were kids.” It didn’t dawn on him that he’d used the phrase twice. “You know how we met?”   
  
Lydia squeezed his hands, “I know you two are, blood isn’t the only way to be family,” she said quietly as she tilted her head to the side curiosity coloring her features. “How?” She asked shifting closer to him surprised to find that she wanted to know more about him.   
  
“We were five. Kindergarten. On the playground.” He hadn’t looked up at her. “As per usual, Scott was saving my ass.” He smiled again, faintly, voice distant. “There was this other kid that was picking on me. I was climbing the jungle gym and he was threatening to knock me off it if I didn’t give him my shoes.” He was quiet for a moment. “And then there was Scott. Who by the way was tiny for a five year old. I mean, I was bigger than him, and he was the one sticking up for me.” It was a trend that had followed them throughout their lives. “He didn’t hit the guy or threaten him. He just said in this really earnest Scott-voice, ‘Picking on people isn’t nice and it makes you a bully. Leave him alone.’”   
  
Lydia’s chest tightened, “That sounds like Scott,” she said quietly keeping her gaze on their hands. “Always taking the moral high ground.” She paused, “He’s a pretty good guy. I’m glad you two have each other.” Lydia felt the familiar bubble of emotion building in her chest. “He loves you,” she said quietly, “There isn’t anything Scott wouldn’t do for you. You’ve got a lot of people in your life who feel that way.” She told him. _I’m one of them_ , she added silently. Lydia knew now wasn’t the time to bring it up.   
  
Honestly she wasn’t sure when she’d be ready to put that out there, but she wasn't the only one who cared, they all did. “He never left your side you know, he was there the whole time. You’ve got a pretty amazing friend...we both do.”   
  
“Yeah, he is.” A tear trickled down his face without him even noticing it. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have done for Scott, had he been himself. Had he not been a monster. He let go of her hand and reached up to wipe his cheek, trying to be discreet about it.   
  
“And that we do. I’m glad you guys are friends, too,” he admitted. They’d need each other more, eventually.   
  
Lydia could see Stiles struggling and she reached out brushing his hand away and cupping his cheeks with both hands making him look at her. She brushed her thumbs beneath his eye shifting the moisture aside. “I’m glad Scott and I got to know each other better too.” She said while holding his gaze. “Stiles, you don’t need to hide from me, I never- I don’t want you to feel like you can’t feel what you feel or be yourself when I’m here.”   
  
Lydia pursed her lips, “You’ve always told me to be myself, practically insisted on it. So don’t try to hide what you’re feeling from me...Or I’ll have to hurt you,” she added jokingly for good measure, trying to diffuse some of the seriousness in the room.   
  
“I’m just...worn out,” he admitted quietly, another tear trickling down his cheek. It wasn’t a lie. He was physically exhausted, like he was never going to get enough sleep again. And truthfully he was afraid to try. Afraid of the images that would invade his brain if he allowed himself to truly rest for any length of time. He knew his body needed it. It was demanding it.   
  
“I’m me, but I’m not. I don’t have the energy to be funny right now,” he told her with a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “How pathetic is _that?_ ” he joked.   
  
“You listen to me Stiles Stilinski, there is nothing pathetic about you and if you call yourself pathetic again so help me god I will beat you with your own bat,” Lydia told him matter-of-factly. “You don’t need to be funny; you’ve been through a lot. And we are all here for you.” She paused trying to find the right words, something she wasn’t great at.   
  
“Nobody thinks any less of you, not your friends, or family, not Scott, not me,” Lydia said her words soft as she brushed her thumb against his cheek wiping yet another tear. “Just the fact that you’re sitting here right now, talking to me, proves that you’re one of the strongest people I know.” Lydia watched him for a minute before leaning in, dropping her hands from his face, and wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.   
  
“My bat. I don’t even remember what happened to it.” He sighed, then looked up at her as she spoke, trying to smile. It was a struggle not to refute her claim. He wasn’t there because he was strong -- it was because she was. She and Scott and their parents. They were the strong ones. The ones who hadn’t been invaded. The ones who hadn’t become monsters.   
  
But when she wrapped her arms around him, he did the same, closing his eyes and pressing his face against her shoulder. “Thanks, Lydia,” he murmured.   
  
Lydia relaxed into him letting one hand run down his back in a comforting gesture as the other grazed the hair at the nap of his neck. “I’m here whenever you need me,” she whispered as she sat on her knees to the side of him holding Stiles to her body.   
  
There was a shuffle of feet and then someone clearing their throat.   
  
Lydia turned her head slightly and when she spotted Scott, Ms. McCall and the sheriff at the door she shifted pulling back from Stiles slowly, taking her time.   
  
Scott angled his head to the side, “Sorry that took so long,” he told them.   
  
“It’s okay.” Stiles swallowed hard, moving his gaze from Scott to Ms. McCall and then his dad, chest tightening. He drew in a breath and turned his head to look at Lydia again, reaching out and squeezing her arm gently before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and rising to his feet. He was surprised by how much his legs felt like Jell-O. “Hey. I’m awake. We’re both awake,” he said needlessly, gesturing to Lydia on the bed. His heart was beating quickly again.   
  
“Yes, Sweetheart, we can see that,” Melissa told him with a soft smile. She put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Why don’t you and your dad go across the hall, and I’ll just check out all of Lydia’s vitals to make sure she’s good to go. Then I’ll come over and do the same for you, okay?” She cupped his cheek, taking note of his red-rimmed eyes. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, closing her eyes for a moment.   
  
Scott’s chest tightened as he watched his mom with Stiles. She had been so worried about him. He took a deep breath and felt moisture gathering in his eyes as he watched Stiles’ Dad walk over to his mom and his best friend. Scott felt a soft pressure against his palm and when he glanced over he saw Lydia wrapping her hand around his.   
  
It was good to see her standing again. He squeezed her hand and turned his gaze back to Stiles just in time to see the Sheriff place his hand at the small of his mother’s back.   
  
The sheriff stood beside Melissa and Stiles and gripped the back of his son’s neck with his free hand. “It’s good to see you on your feet.” He said gruffly, while thanking god that his son was okay.   
  
Wordlessly, Stiles wound his arms around his dad, tighter than he’d gripped Scott or Lydia even. _I almost killed you,_ he thought, trying to suppress that terrible memory. God, why hadn’t he been able to overcome the Nogitsune _then?_ He’d been screaming inside, threatening and trying to claw his way out but still hadn’t been able to. He didn’t even know how his dad, or anyone else had managed to survive the bomb he’d set up.   
  
Melissa watched them for a moment, reaching out and squeezing the sheriff’s shoulder gently before turning her attention to Lydia. “How are you feeling?” There was warm concern in her tone.   
  
Lydia looked away from Stiles and focused on Melissa. She gave Scott’s mom half a smile. “I’m feeling a lot better, just tired.” She told her honestly.   
  
“Her head was hurting when she woke up,” Scott added with a gentle squeeze of her hand. He was glad he and Lydia had gotten a chance to know each other better, despite the circumstances which Scott hadn’t enjoyed at all. But it was comforting to know there was someone else who was as anxious and worried as he was when it came to Stiles.   
  
“And I’m guessing that’s not an issue anymore,” Melissa said wryly, giving her son a knowing look.   
  
Stiles smiled faintly against his dad’s shoulder without even having to turn and look, picturing that _look_ perfectly in his head. He’d been on the receiving end of that look countless times over the years.   
  
Scott grinned sheepishly, “I don’t like to see anyone hurting,” He said with a shrug. His gaze shifted to Stiles briefly before he glanced back to his mom. “Can we stay here tonight?” He asked suddenly glancing between his mom and the sheriff.   
  
The sheriff snorted as he rubbed a hand over Stiles back, “You mean there was actually a chance I’d get you to leave?” He asked jokingly knowing that there was no way Scott would be leaving Stiles anytime soon. They were like brothers and after everything Scott had done for his son he’d never make him leave. “Scott you know the doors are always open for you and your mom. Whenever you want.” He told him glancing over at them briefly as he shifted back from Stiles, but kept a hand on his shoulder.   
  
Lydia bit her bottom lip as she stood beside Scott. She straightened up and cleared her throat, “Can I stay too?” she asked her voice calm betraying none of the nerves she was feeling except to maybe the alpha beside her.   
  
Melissa hid a smile and turned to look at Michael. She reached out and put a hand on her own son’s shoulder. “Is this like a pack slumber party?” Her voice was light as she met the sheriff’s eyes.   
  
“Yes,” Scott said immediately. “But not the whole pack. Just...the three of us tonight.” He looked at his mom and then Stiles’ dad hopefully.   
  
Michael did his best not to laugh as he glanced at Melissa, the smile she was hiding clear in her eyes. Michael glanced at his son attempting to look stern. “Is this a trick to break my no girls in your bed rule?” He joked while rubbing his sons back.   
  
“That rule’s already been broken,” Lydia paused when everyone glanced at her. She shifted on her feet, “Uh because we got knocked unconscious, remember?” She said though that wasn’t the first time she hung out in Stiles room.   
  
Scott dropped his head to his chest amused, not able to hold back his grin, only Lydia. “Doesn’t it count that I’ll be in the bed too?” He asked.   
  
Michael arched an eyebrow and glanced at Melissa. “I think for tonight it’s fine, what do you think Melissa?”   
  
Melissa looked around at the teens and arched an eyebrow at Michael. “I think one night won’t be a problem. But no funny business. No late night truth or dare where one of you ends up _streaking_ across the front lawn and we get a call from the neighbors asking what kind of children I’m supervising.”   
  
Stiles’ eyes widened at that and he looked at Scott. “No, definitely not.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at Lydia now.   
  
Scott’s eyes were just as wide as Stiles’. “No streaking, got it. No taking off clothes of any kind. We promise, don’t we Stiles?” He shook his head as he glanced at his best friend.   
  
Michael did his best not to laugh as he glanced between their wide-eyed faces.   
  
“Guaranteed not to happen.” Stiles raised his eyebrows. If they only knew that was one of their _tamer_ adventures. But he wasn’t about to say that out loud. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I think I’m just gonna...take a shower.” He motioned to the bathroom.   
  
The sheriff nodded, “Of course,” he said patting his son on the back before glancing at Scott and Lydia. “There are a few people downstairs waiting to make sure you and my son are okay.” He commented.   
  
Lydia released Scott’s hand and glanced at Stiles briefly before turning her gaze on the sheriff. “I can go down and let them know we’re okay.” She said with half a smile. She was going to have leave Stiles at some point, might as well do it now.   
  
Stiles heard his dad’s words and felt bad for leaving Lydia to face their friends alone. This was, after all, his mess. His friends just kept cleaning things up for him. He rubbed his hands over his face as he stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and locking it. He stripped down quickly and climbed in the shower, turning on the hot water and just standing under it. His skin was his own...but it didn’t feel like he’d been in it for far too long. He felt different. Unwell on more levels than one. Despite how hot the water was, Stiles’ body shook with tremors that didn’t have anything to do with being cold. He pressed hand over his face, then slowly sat down in the tub, shutting his eyes as the hot water rolled over him.   
  
He was damaged. Broken. And he wasn’t sure he was ever going to be the same again.


	4. Chapter 4

Lydia made her way down the stairs with Scott behind her. The further she got from Stiles and the closer to their friends that were waiting downstairs, the heavier the ball of anxiety in the pit of her stomach became. Lydia wondered if she was ever going to feel normal again, but at this point she wondered if she could even remember what that was.   
  
Her heartbeat picked up speed as she reached the bottom of the steps and paused, her hand clenching on the railing. Lydia took a deep breath trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. She hadn’t seen Allison since the night her dad shot Stiles with an arrow. Lydia swallowed heavily, she could do this.   
  
Scott was right behind her, and it wasn’t hard to pick up on her anxiety. Wordlessly he reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. He wasn’t sure, truthfully, if he was just feeling her anxiety over things, or if he was still picking up on Stiles’, too. Either way, it wasn’t pleasant, and he was going to have to talk to Derek about how to deal with that kind of thing. “Ready?” he asked quietly as he stopped on the same step that she did.   
  
Lydia’s eyes flew open and she glanced over her shoulder at Scott, “Yes, sorry,” she mumbled as she straightened to her full height, which wasn’t much barefoot and glanced down. She hadn’t even realized she was wearing one of Stiles’ shirts. Lovely. She probably looked like some kind of mess. Lydia sighed, but held her head high as she walked into the hallway hesitating for a second to make sure Scott was still with her before stepping into the living room.   
  
Derek, Isaac and Allison all looked up when they heard people entire the room and despite the fact that Derek and Isaac heard most of what was going on upstairs both boys looked relieved when they saw Lydia and Scott.   
  
Lydia flipped her hair over one shoulder and sent them a small smile her eyes landing on Allison, “Hey,” she said softly her voice still hoarse from earlier.   
  
Allison rose to her feet immediately, launching herself at Lydia and wrapping her in a hug. She shut her eyes tightly. “I’m so glad you’re awake. And okay. You are okay, right?” She pulled back enough to look at her best friend, expression anxious.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard, “I’m okay,” she said quietly as she gave Allison a once over, “How are you? All healed up?” She asked. Lydia had stayed at the hospital with Isaac until Allison had gotten out of surgery, but she hadn’t been able to see her friend at the time.   
  
“Mostly. Still sore sometimes. And I can’t really do a lot of physical activities yet, but I’m getting there.” She looked back over at Isaac, who’d been taking her pain far more than he should have been considering it hurt _him_. But he was as stubborn as she was when it came right down to it.   
  
Scott rested a hand lightly on the small of Lydia’s back for a moment before moving away from her. “Stiles’ dad said something about food.” He smiled but it wasn’t his normal smile. It was strained, tense as he looked around.   
  
Derek motioned to the two boxes of pizza on the small coffee table along with a bunch of small containers of Chinese food. “There’s food here,” he said his voice quiet as he watched Scott for a minute, “Everything okay?” He asked the younger wolf.   
  
Isaac walked over towards Derek and Scott his eyes on Lydia and Allison as they spoke.   
  
Scott looked at Derek, reaching down and picking up a slice of pizza, nodding at him and shifting his gaze to Isaac. “How’re you doing?” he asked quietly, trying to get a read on the young werewolf’s expression.   
  
Isaac shifted on his feet his eyes darting to Allison and Lydia before he glanced back at Scott. “I’m okay...Argent hasn’t shot me with an arrow yet, so that’s good.” Except for the time he almost shot Isaac when he found him in Allison’s bed, but Isaac was going to keep that to himself. “How about you? It’s been a while,” he said keeping his ears focused on the girls so he could hear Allison and Lydia talking.   
  
Scott bit back a comment about how no, Argent reserved those arrows for _Stiles_ apparently, but knew that wouldn’t help any of them. And in the end, Chris Argent had been on their side. He hadn’t completely been able to get past how willing he’d been to off Scott’s best friend for _the greater good_. But that wasn’t Isaac’s fault. Except that Isaac had sided with him. And so had Allison. “Glad to hear it,” he told Isaac, meaning it. “I’m…” He shrugged, looking down and taking a bite of pizza, not really sure how to answer the question. His gaze shifted over to Allison and Lydia as they spoke.   
  
Lydia nodded, “I’m glad you’re getting better,” she said genuinely as her gaze drifted to the stairs. “Are you back in school yet?” She asked as she looked away from the stairs and back at Allison her hands clenching at her sides as she tried to control the anxiety growing in her chest. _Stop it, you need to control this crazy urge to run up and check on Stiles. What is wrong with you?_ Lydia did her best to focus on the conversation at hand. It had been a long time since she talked to Allison and that was mostly her fault.   
  
Derek frowned, the anxiety coming from the redhead and the internal struggle going through her was clear as day.   
  
Allison frowned at the way Lydia kept looking over her shoulders, taking note of her hands curled into fists at her sides. “Yeah, I went back this week. Lydia, are _you_ okay?” she asked worriedly. “I mean, really okay?” She glanced toward the stairs, wondering why Stiles hadn’t come down. “No. Not you. Stiles. You’re worried about him.” Which of course made sense. Allison was worried about him, too. They were all worried about Stiles. He’d been through hell and back. They all had, but what he’d experienced was something completely different from what they had.   
  
Lydia stretched her hands out and wiggled her fingers near her side. “Stiles is doing better than he was,” she commented, but changed the subject quickly. Lydia knew Allison was sorry for what happened and no matter what the other girl _was_ her best friend. But she wasn’t comfortable discussing Stiles with her just yet. Allison was just protecting Isaac and Lydia understood that, but it had gotten Stiles shot, and Stiles was Lydia’s priority. “I’m probably ridiculously behind in all my classes...we all probably are. I should see if they can send our work home.” She said lightly.   
  
Isaac had been listening to her words and he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear him. “Aren’t you guys coming back to school now that this is all over?” He asked glancing between Scott and Lydia. “Allison and I already went back,” he commented. He could feel the tension in the room and Isaac idly wondered if they’d all ever be able to get together again without it.   
  
Allison felt the tension, too, and it hurt more than she wanted to admit. “I can gather everything you need and bring it to you,” she offered, wanting to ease things in the group, and since Lydia had changed the subject, she knew that meant the subject of Stiles was off limits until Stiles came down on his own. And she wasn’t sure that was going to happen tonight at all. She cast a worried glance in Scott’s direction.   
  
“I was back,” Scott reminded him. “I just had to take a couple days because of everything going on. I”ll be back Monday.” He hoped everything was going well enough to go back on Monday, anyway. He glanced at Lydia, offering her a gentle smile before shifting his gaze to Allison, reading her expression instantly. Nodding, he set his pizza down on a plate. “Be back in a few,” he told his friends as he headed up the Stilinski’s stair case.   
  
Lydia watched Scott go and then glanced back at Allison. She gripped the bottom of Stiles’ t-shirt picking at the material gently as she willed her heartbeat to calm down. “How’s the cleanup going at the school?” She asked as she shifted walking towards Derek.   
  
The second Lydia moved closer to him he felt her anxiety. He shifted his arm off the arm of the chair and she seemed to understand the action because she moved over and sat on it.   
  
Isaac watched her before walking over to Allison and placing his hand on the small of her back offering her some support. “It’s going,” he answered. “Maybe Scott went to go get Stiles,” he said figuring once Stiles was ready to see them things between the group and him and Allison would get better, at least he hoped it would.   
  
Allison wasn’t so sure about that. She had a feeling Scott was going to check on Stiles, not bring him down. She reached out and laid her hand on the small of his back, as well. “It’s going,” she told Lydia repeating Isaac’s words. “There wasn’t too much damage at the school itself.” That part definitely could have been a lot worse.   
  
Lydia nodded, “That’s true. Sorry things are still a little bit cloudy,” she admitted. “I’m glad things are better there. Ms. McCall said the sheriff has been working a lot, so I guess things are still pretty rough in town.” She said trying to keep herself occupied by talking, but it didn’t get rid of the underlying tension in her body.   
  
Isaac nodded, “Allison’s dad’s been helping get things cleaned up,” he said giving Allison a light squeeze.   
  
Lydia pursed her lips her body tensing even more at the mention of Allison’s dad and then she felt Derek’s hand against her back and it was almost like she felt him sending her some kind of calming vibes. Some of the tension left her body and she nodded, “That’s good that the sheriff has extra help.”   
  
Allison looked down at the floor, noting how tense Lydia was. She let out a breath and looked at Isaac. “We should go.” She squeezed his arm. She was starting to feel distinctly uncomfortable the longer they stood there in the tension. “We’ve been here awhile and Dad’s probably starting to worry.”   
  
Isaac nodded, his hands rubbing circles against Allison’s back. He felt conflicted. A part of him wanted to stay and talk to Scott, try to work things out, but the other part of him could see that Allison was upset and he didn’t want her to be alone. “Allison’s right, we should go.”   
  
Guilt filled Lydia’s chest at their words. She pushed herself up, “Okay,” she hesitated, “I know things are a little...strained right now. But it means a lot that you guys came when you thought something was wrong. Thank you,” she said sincerely as she walked with them towards the door Derek on her heels.   
  
“It’s fine. It’ll get better,” Allison said softly, even if she wasn’t really sure that it would. “I’m glad you guys are okay. If you need anything…” Her voice trailed off and she smiled faintly at Lydia, though it didn’t meet her eyes. “Talk to you soon.” She leaned over and kissed Lydia’s cheek before heading out the door.   
  
Lydia watched as Isaac and Allison left and then turned to Derek.   
  
“I’m going to head out also,” he said knowing that Scott and Lydia needed some time with Stiles. He started for the door when he felt Lydia’s small hand circle his arm. He paused and glanced at her eyebrow raised.   
  
Lydia met his gaze, “I just wanted to say thank you. You stayed in the hospital with me and,” she paused, “Honestly I’m convinced you guided me back to where I needed to be.” Lydia hesitated for a minute before reaching up and hugging Derek. “Scott and I wouldn’t have been able to save Stiles without you Derek. I know you’re not big on the whole social thing, but don’t be a stranger, even when there’s no screaming.”   
  
It took Derek a minute to respond to the hug. It was awkward and unexpected, but he found that it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. He pulled back a minute later and nodded at her. “Take care of yourself. Scott has my number if you need me.” He told her before heading out the door and closing it behind him.   
  
Lydia sighed and then turned around and made her way back up the stairs. She passed the sheriffs room and saw him and Melissa talking. Lydia kept moving forward and when she got closer to Stiles’ room she heard him and Scott talking. She paused in the doorway, leaning against it and a couple of seconds later they both glanced in her direction. The ball of anxiety that had been steadily building in her chest was squashed at the sight of Stiles. Her body relaxing again now that she could see he was okay. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”   
  
“You’re not,” Scott assured her, looking up and offering her a gentle smile. “Come on in, Lydia. Do either of you want pizza or Chinese? Looks like we have both downstairs if either of you is hungry. Or I could make soup,” he said, casting a side glance at Stiles.   
  
“Dude. I’d rather not have my house burned down.” Stiles flinched at his own words almost immediately as the memory of setting the asylum on fire flickered through his mind.   
  
Lydia stepped into the room taking note of the look on Stiles face, but not saying anything. She shook her head at Scott. “I’m not really all that hungry, but thanks.” She said returning his smile. “Everyone else went home.” She said glancing over at Stiles, “They said they hope you’re feeling better.” She told him.   
  
Scott thought the message was nice and he knew Allison and Isaac didn’t mean any harm now, but he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the way they’d turned on them before. He hated that it still made him angry and that he couldn’t seem to get over it. Scott glanced at Stiles, “No soup then,” he said a small smile on his face at his friends words even though Stiles seemed a little more tense now, “Pizza, Chinese?” He asked.   
  
“No, I’m...I’m not really that hungry either. I think I’m just -- I should just probably sleep for awhile. I’m really tired,” Stiles told them, not really looking at either of them, his eyes unfocused as he scrubbed his hands over his face.   
  
Scott and Lydia exchanged glances briefly and Scott nodded. “No, problem man,” he stood. “I’m gonna go change real quick.” He rested a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and squeezed gently before stepping away from his friend, walking around Lydia and grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms and a shirt from his bag. Typically he’d just change in Stiles’ room, but with Lydia there Scott figured the polite thing would be changing in the bathroom. “Be right back,” he called out before heading into the bathroom.   
  
Lydia glanced at Stiles and took a step forward, “Mind if I lay with you?” She asked her tone calm and light.   
  
Stiles wasn’t sure if either of them staying was a great idea. The likelihood that he was going to wake up screaming and terrifying the entire household wasn’t farfetched in the least. But he didn’t have it in him to ask them to leave either. So instead, he nodded silently, managing a faint smile. “But you heard what Ms. McCall and my dad said. No funny business, Lyds.”   
  
Lydia returned the smile with a tired one of her own, “Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours, I’m a little too tired for funny business tonight,” she admitted as she watched him for a minute before climbing up onto his bed. “You coming?” She asked as she tugged the covers back like it was the most natural thing in the world. After everything they’d been through the past few weeks sharing a bed with Stiles was the least of Lydia’s worries.   
  
Stiles let out a breath and crawled into bed beside her, moving over to leave enough room for Scott as he stared up at the ceiling, chest already beginning to feel tight. “Are you sure you’re gonna be comfortable like this?”   
  
“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” Lydia frowned; there was something off about his expression. “Is everything okay, Stiles?” She asked as she shifted on to her side. Lydia wanted to reach out to him, but she wasn’t sure if he’d appreciate the gesture and didn’t want to invade his personal space.   
  
Stiles turned his head to look at her. “You don’t think it’s kinda...I don’t know. Strange? This whole three person slumber party in my bed?” Because it was strange to him. He’d pictured Lydia in his bed plenty of times, especially since hitting high school, but this wasn’t at all how he’d imagined it. Then again, right then it was hard to imagine much of anything that could be considered good.   
  
Lydia contemplated his words, “It’s a little strange,” she admitted, “But I trust you and I trust Scott we’re all friends and,” she paused glancing down, “And if I’m being completely honest I’m not quite ready to leave you just yet,” Lydia responded quietly.   
  
Stiles closed his eyes. She shouldn’t trust him. _Never trust someone who was possessed by a fox, Lydia,_ he thought tiredly even as he nodded. “Okay. Just wanted to make sure.”   
  
Lydia watched Stiles close his eyes and she shifted just a bit closer to him still keeping a small amount of distance between them.   
  
Scott made his way into the room a minute later tossing his clothes on top of his bag. He noticed Stiles and Lydia already in bed. He walked over to the empty side, pulled the covers back, and plopped down on the bed, leaning back against the pillow and staring at the ceiling. He could hear their heartbeats, so he knew neither was sleeping. “You good?” He asked his best friend.   
  
Stiles shifted slightly, turning his head toward Scott. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “You?” He was worried about Scott and Lydia both, for different reasons. He was worried about all of them, everyone in the pack, plus Derek, plus their parents. And he didn’t know what to do to make anything better except to pretend everything was fine so things could get back to normal as quickly as possible, even if he didn’t think he’d ever feel normal again.   
  
Scott nodded, “Yeah, I’m alright...tired I guess. It’s been a long few days,” or weeks he added silently. But now that Stiles was officially on the mend he could take a breath and rest easier than he had been in a while.   
  
He winced and was glad that Scott hadn’t seen his automatic reply -- one that he’d never really had to use before with Scott -- jumped to his lips. _I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to fix it, but I’m going to try. I’m sorry I let you down._ “Get some sleep, man.” His voice was quiet and he swallowed hard, keeping his eyes shut tightly against the tears that burned there.   
  
Scott patted Stiles on the shoulder and shifted so he was lying on his side, his back facing his best friend. “You too, I’m here if you need me,” he said calmly. “Night Lydia,” he called softly knowing she wasn’t yet asleep.   
  
“Night Scott,” Lydia shifted hesitating for a minute before reaching her hand out and resting it gently against Stiles’ chest trying to offer both him and herself a bit of comfort. Knowing he was there, solid and real after everything he’d been through helped. “You should rest,” she whispered addressing Stiles as her eyes started to droop.   
  
He murmured goodnights to both of his friends, willing himself to relax, but hesitantly reaching up to cover Lydia’s hand with his own, needing the contact. He kept as still as he could, despite how restless his sleep tended to be. He didn’t want to disturb their sleep because they both needed it. Scott to recover from weeks without any sleep or very little sleep at best, and Lydia because she’d done an incredibly dangerous and tasking thing that had taken a lot out of her. It was ironic how little effect he’d had on the world for the majority of his life, but how badly he’d damaged so much in just a few short weeks’ time.   
  
Stiles eventually drifted off to sleep himself, but it was to the sound of the Nogitsune in his head, laughing.   


______

  
  
Scott shifted in his sleep, his eyes squeezing together as something pulled him from sleep. He fought it, but in the end he lost. Scott blinked several times until the light coming in from the windows no longer burned his eyes. He’d slept soundly at least he was pretty sure he had. Scott had fallen asleep easily sleeping heavily through the night. He grunted and ran a hand over his face, scrubbing it gently before stretching.   
  
Scott lay there for a minute when something odd struck him. He wasn’t in his own space. He turned his head to glance at his best friend and the sight Scott was met with made his heart clench. Stiles was beside him, his body curled in on itself in the middle of the mattress. His brow was furrowed in his sleep, his knees drawn up to his chest.   
  
Scott sat up slowly frowning. He couldn’t help the way his chest tightened. Stiles looked...Scott wasn’t even sure they made a word for how lost his best friend looked. He swallowed hard his gaze stretching over to Lydia who was on her side facing Stiles, her arm beneath his pillow. He studied his friend for several minutes not sure what to make of what was going on.   
  
Maybe he was reading too much into it, but Scott felt the first stirrings of a familiar uneasiness within him. He reached out and shook his friend gently, “Stiles, Stiles wake up,” he said quietly shaking his friend gently so as not to startle him.   
  
A soft whimper escaped him, sweat dampening his hair to his forehead. His breathing was unsteady, shaky. Like he was frightened of something, some unseen force. Distantly he heard someone saying his name. Was that his name? It sounded so foreign, and so far away. It didn’t sound like Nogitsune’s voice. It was different, more concerned and less taunting. But he couldn’t seem to open his eyes to see who it was, or why he was being shaken.   
  
His arms and legs hurt, ached in ways that his unconscious mind couldn’t process. But the worst was what he saw. The blood. There was so much of it. All over him. His hands, his clothes. It was everywhere. Flashes of images flickered through his mind. Fire, hot and terrifying. The screams that he couldn’t drown out even over the sound of his own sick laughter. Hands working quickly to assemble a terrible package. The sick satisfaction at the explosion that had happened. Bodies. Everywhere. They lined the streets of Beacon Hills, but all of the eyes were open and staring right at him, lifeless but somehow still accusing.   
  
A tear slipped down his cheek even though his eyes still didn’t open, another faint whimper escaping him. He could hear more screaming in the distance and it hurt his ears, making him shudder even as laughter echoed in his head. _Stop,_ he thought frantically. _Please just make it stop._   
  
Scott gripped Stiles’ arm and shook him a bit harder, “Stiles wake up,” he said his tone panicked. He shifted again the frequent movement making Lydia stir. “Stiles,” he shook him again, “Get up,” his voice was deeper now, harder.   
  
Stiles shot up in bed, tangled in the blankets and his own limbs, wincing as pain shot through him from sleeping in such an awkward position. Confusion flickered over his face and it took him a moment to realize that Scott had woken him. When he looked at his best friend the panic on Scott’s face, the fear, made him feel ill. “Scott?”   
  
Scott gripped Stiles’ shoulder, his other hand flat against his best friend’s chest. “Are you okay?” He asked his heartbeat slamming. “What was that?” He asked quietly trying to get Stiles’ heartbeat to slow down.   
  
Stiles shifted his gaze finding Lydia wide awake her hand resting on his leg. He swallowed hard while trying to calm down and rubbed his hands over his face, not pulling away from either of them as he tried to pull himself together. “Just a bad dream. It’s fine,” he mumbled. “I’m fine.” He swallowed convulsively. “I didn’t mean to wake anyone up.”   
  
Scott glanced at Lydia and she pursed her lips, worry filling her gaze. “It’s fine,” Scott said quickly, “you don’t have to apologize, I was up already.” He told his friend as he dropped his hand. “I’m going to grab you some water okay? Just...relax,” he said quietly as he released his friends shoulder, pushed the covers off himself and stood.   
  
Stiles kept his eyes shut as Scott made his way out of the room. He swallowed hard, his shoulders full of tension. He slowly lay back down, draping his arm over his eyes because he couldn’t look at Lydia right then. “Well that was sufficiently humiliating,” he grumbled.   
  
Lydia frowned, “You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” she said softly her voice still rough with sleep. She shifted closer to him, this time not hesitating to press her body against his side as her arm went around his midsection. “It happens,” Lydia soft softly, “It would probably be weird if it didn’t,” she told him honestly as she rested her chin gently against his chest, keeping a strong grip on him.   
  
“I’m a mess.” His voice was quiet. “I don’t know how to…” He shook his head a little, falling silent and sighing, hesitantly reaching out and resting a hand on her shoulder blade. “What if I can’t function like a normal person again?” _What if I can’t be fixed?_   
  
The uncertainty and pain she heard in Stiles voice tightened her chest, but she pushed that aside and spoke calmly as she ran her hand up and down his side. “It’s only been a couple of days. I know right now things seem...less than ideal and maybe things will never go back to normal, but eventually Stiles, this too shall pass.” She responded quietly.   
  
“You’ll wake up one day and realize that this is just one more thing you’ve overcome. Something that’s made you who you are, but it isn’t going to happen overnight.” Lydia wished it would for his sake, but she knew life didn’t work that way. “And that’s okay. Scott and I will be here. Your dad, Ms. McCall...we’re all here whenever you need us.” Lydia used her thumb to rub small circles into Stiles’ skin.   
  
Lydia was silent for a minute, “I have nightmares too sometimes.” She whispered, “It’s a normal process, how the body works out issues.” Lydia told him as she brushed her cheek against his chest.   
  
It was strange to hear the phrase, _This too shall pass_ from Lydia Martin. Though he supposed in retrospect it made perfect sense. No one knew hell quite the way Lydia had known hell. She’d been dragged into it once, an unwilling victim, and then walked back in voluntarily to save him.   
  
He tried to imagine a day where he’d wake up feeling refreshed from sleep rather than waking up screaming or crying. Tried to imagine that maybe one day this would all just be a thing of the past. Distantly he remembered Morrell’s words to him so long ago. _If you’re going through hell...keep going._ It was all he had been doing for what seemed like forever. He’d kept going, like a robot. Or the Energizer Bunny. He kept going because there was no other choice when you had a dad who depended on you for basic things like making sure he didn’t eat too much red meat or greasy foods.   
  
He didn’t have to ask what her nightmares were about. He had no doubt who was the frequent monster in her dreams. Peter Hale. He gently combed his fingers through her hair without even realizing he was doing it, though it felt like a soothing thing to do and he was surprised that it soothed him, too. “I’m freaking him out.” His voice was almost inaudible.   
  
Lydia let herself sink against him, the feel of his fingers moving through her hair relaxing the part of her that had been frantically worrying in her head. “He loves you, he’s worried.” She corrected staying silent for a minute, “He wants you to be okay, we all do, but we also know it takes time. It’s hard seeing someone you care about suffer especially when there isn’t much you can do to help.” Lydia found that her words weren’t just true for Scott.   
  
Her fingers drew random patterns on top of his shirt. “Scott has been taking everything on himself lately and he feels responsible for you, for all of us. He needs to try and relax as much as you do.” Lydia said her words quiet.   
  
That wasn’t anything Stiles didn’t know, really. He knew Scott loved him. That he was worried about him and he wanted him to be okay. And he knew how hard it was to see someone you care about suffer. He’d watched his mom suffer for months and months until her time had dwindled down to nothing.   
  
Swallowing hard, he was barely aware of her drawing patterns on his shirt. He was trying to figure out how to _fix_ it. How to fix himself so he could fix his best friend. So he could fix his best friend’s pack. “Yeah, I know he does,” he murmured.   
  
Lydia rested her head beneath his chin shifting her body again so her body was essentially wrapped against his. “I’m here you know, if you want to talk about it or if you just want to lay here.” She said rubbing her hand down his arm again trying to comfort him the only way she knew how. “Eventually things will work out; you just need to get through all this crap first before you get to the light at the end of the tunnel.” A light that Lydia knew could very well take a while to get to.   
  
“Patience isn’t my strong suit,” Stiles admitted, though he was fairly certain that everyone around him knew that already. He didn’t like waiting. He was impulsive by nature, jumping headlong into problems and fixing them as well as he could in very haphazard kinds of ways. He yawned involuntarily, eyes beginning to feel heavy again though he dreaded what more sleep would bring. He wondered how long it would take for the nightmares to go away, and wondered if one lifetime was going to be enough time, or if he was really damned for an eternity. Distantly he heard footfalls coming toward the room. Scott returning, probably, but he was so tired he had a hard time rolling his head in his best friend’s direction.   
  
“It’s okay,” Lydia whispered softly, “Get some rest...I’ll chase the nightmares away for you.” She said softly giving Stiles a gentle squeeze as Scott came back into the room, his fingers curled around a glass of water. He spotted Stiles eyes fluttering shut and he put the glass down quietly on the nightstand and then carefully sat down in the spot he’d vacated not long before, his chest tightening at Lydia’s words.   
  
Scott wasn’t sure what to do. He looked from his sleeping best friend to the pretty girl who was lying beside him, feeling at an utter loss as how to help with any of this. He rubbed a hand over his face. He’d slept well, but he was still tired. A glance at the clock on Stiles’ nightstand showed that it was just barely 7 in the morning. They’d been out for hours. Had Stiles been like that all night? Curled up, trapped in his own terrible dreams?   
  
He hesitated a moment, then lay down on his side, facing Lydia and Stiles, tucking a hand under his head. “What do we do?” he whispered, not sure she had the answers either but hoping she did.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard her arm tightening around Stiles midsection. “We help him the best way we can,” she said quietly. “It’s not going to be easy,” she whispered, “And there’s probably a lot we’re not going to be able to fix for him and that’s something we’re going to have to accept. But I feel,” Lydia paused trying to understand the feeling in the pit of her stomach, “Like he needs us. I think maybe there’s a reason I feel so anxious and sick to my stomach when I’m away from Stiles.”   
  
Lydia caught Scott’s gaze, “I had feelings I didn’t listen to before and I’m not going to do it again. Whatever is going on with me...with what I am I need to start embracing it. If I had before we might not be in this situation,” she said knowing that neither Scott nor Stiles blamed her, but she still very much blamed herself for not trying to figure out the voices that were screaming in her head. “We need to stay close until the feeling is gone. Can you trust what I feel?” Lydia asked her voice barely a whisper as she shifted against Stiles.   
  
When he opened his eyes again, his chest tightened. “It isn’t your fault. The only one we have to blame here is Jennifer Blake for starting this whole mess in the first place.” He swallowed hard. “I trust your feelings, Lydia. Don’t doubt that.”   
  
Lydia felt moisture prickle in the corner of her eyes. “Stiles trusted them too...and I let him down,” she whispered, “But I promise I won’t this time.”   
  
“Lydia.” Scott shook his head, reaching out and covering her hand with his. “You didn’t let him down. You saved his _life_. You did that when the rest of us were running around trying to figure out how to do that.” He squeezed her hand, not pulling away as he laid his head back down on the pillow.   
  
“I saved his life after the fact. And I know what you’re going to say, but had I listened to the warnings...maybe he wouldn’t have to deal with...everything that happened.” Lydia said quietly. She didn’t have the luxury of letting the guilt eat away at her though. She needed to be ready to listen to her feelings now, that was what was important.   
  
Lydia watched Scott for a minute, “You can feel us all can’t you?” She asked, “You can feel how hard it is for me to leave him.” She questioned.   
  
Scott was silent for a long moment, searching her face and then letting his gaze drop to Stiles’ face. This time at least, his sleep looked more peaceful. Like he wasn’t being _tortured_ with no hope of getting away. “I feel it, too,” he whispered. “I’m not sure I’m supposed to, because I thought the alpha thing was just for the other wolves in a pack, but…” He shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “I feel it, too.”   
  
Scott sighed, “I should probably talk to Derek and figure out if that’s because of the whole alpha thing or if it’s because...of the banshee thing or if it’s because we’re just all getting closer.”   
  
Lydia squeezed Scott’s hand gently a small smile tugging at her lips at his words. “The fact that, that sentence sounds completely normal to me is a serious indicator of how incredibly weird our lives have gotten.” She told him softly ask Stiles inhaled deeply making her head shift with the rise and fall of his chest. Her gaze flickered up to his face but he was still asleep.   
  
Lydia placed a light kiss to Stiles chest, a reminder that she was there. “Derek could be helpful. He’s _been_ helpful. Maybe he knows who I can talk to about the whole Banshee thing. I need to learn how to control it and you need to do the same thing with your alpha...ness” Lydia said for lack of a better word. “We need to be able to understand our own strengths and weaknesses if we’re going to help him.” Lydia truly believed that. There had to be a reason they were all so connected, why she felt Stiles so deeply and why she was even starting to sense when Scott was emotionally out of whack.   
  
“Derek’s been very helpful,” he agreed with a small smile. “It’s good he came back when he did.” Because if he hadn’t, Scott wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to single-handedly stop all the hunters in the forest the night that Chris Argent had Stiles on his knees at gunpoint, ready to kill him. His chest tightened at the memory of his best friend begging just to let Chris kill him and get it over with. It had been terrifying then and it still terrified him now. “But you’re right. We’ll talk to Derek, and maybe Deaton, and see if there’s anything more that they can help with as far as gaining control of our powers and abilities.”   
  
Lydia nodded turning her head and hiding a yawn in Stiles chest. She glanced back at Scott a minute later and scrunched her nose. “That’s a good plan,” she said freezing when she felt Stiles shift beneath her, but again he didn’t wake up instead she felt his hand curl around her hip and she let out a short breath. Lydia glanced at Scott again, “He knows we’re here for him,” she said softly, “We should try to sleep while he’s still out, believe it or not I’m still really tired.” She said with a short laugh. Lydia let fingers curl around Scott’s tugging his hand gently so it was closer to her and Stiles. “So he knows you’re with him too.” Lydia mumbled knowing how important Scott and his friendship were to Stiles.   
  
“Get some rest,” he agreed, shifting closer and letting Lydia drag his hand over Stiles’. He laid his head down on his best friend’s pillow and in the back of his mind he wondered if it was weird that he was cuddling with two people that he loved dearly but had nothing more than platonic feelings for. He decided he didn’t really care if it was weird. If this was what Stiles and Lydia needed, he’d cuddle with them. Whatever helped them to get rest that wasn’t disturbed by nightmares. He let his eyes drift close. “I believe it.” Because he was also still tired. And maybe he needed this, too. Scott drifted to sleep within moments.   


______

  
  
Melissa McCall had spent the night in the Stilinski’s guest room even though she knew that everyone was in good hands between Michael and her son being there. But truthfully she was so worried about all of them that being away from any of them for a night didn’t feel _right_ to her. She wandered downstairs early that morning, not surprised to see Michael at the table already, drinking a cup of coffee. She patted his shoulder without a thought before moving past him to the coffee pot and pouring herself a cup, as well. “Did you get any sleep last night?” she asked, arching an eyebrow as she joined him at the table, sitting down right across from him.   
  
Michael grunted, but sent her half a smile. “On and off,” he admitted. His sleep hadn’t exactly been restful, but he’d had worse nights. He was glad Melissa decided to spend the night, having her around when he woke up was always pleasant, plus Michael felt like as much as he did for Stiles, sometimes his son just needed the love and comfort of a mom. And even though Melissa wasn’t Stiles mom, she was the closest thing his son had to one and Stiles loved her dearly. “How about you? Was the guest bedroom okay?” He asked it had been a while since anyone had used it.   
  
That had been her experience with sleep throughout the night, too. She’d woken up several times and found herself listening just in case one of their kids was having a nightmare. Even if they didn’t wake up screaming it didn’t mean they weren’t dreaming terrible things. Scott had rarely had problems with nightmares, but she knew Stiles had been plagued with night terrors even as a small boy. They’d gone away for awhile, but after his mom had passed away, they’d returned with a vengeance. She could recall a countless amount of times that she’d had to rush into her son’s room and crawl into bed with the two of them, rocking Stiles gently and murmuring soothing things until he’d fall asleep again.   
  
“The room’s perfect,” she assured Michael with a small smile.   
  
Michael smiled and reached out covering one of her hands with his, “I’m glad.” He said giving it a light squeeze before retracting his hand slowly. “I was going to check on the kids earlier,” he paused glancing down at his coffee, “But the door was closed and it was quiet...Plus I figured you might want to check on them with me.” He said with half a smile knowing Melissa had to be just as worried as he was. Hell, he worried constantly. Even though things were finally starting to come together in town and the Sheriff’s Station was almost finished being renovated, he knew his son’s recovery was just starting and it killed him that he wasn’t really sure how to help.   
  
Melissa smiled again, nodding. “I thought about the same thing a few times through the night, but I didn’t hear any noise. Hopefully that means they all got some rest, especially Stiles.” She took a sip of her coffee. “How are you holding up, Michael?”   
  
Michael let out a breath. “I’m worried.” He said honestly. “I’m afraid I’m not going to be enough to help him get through this. Look how bad things are and he doesn’t even remember what happened,” he said gruffly before taking a sip of his coffee. “What happens if those memories come back? I don’t want to lose my son...he’s all I’ve got left.” Michael glanced down at the table not used to being so in touch with the emotional aspects of how _he_ was feeling. But he seemed to be able to talk to Melissa in a way he couldn’t open up to anyone. They’d been through a lot together.   
  
“Michael.” Her voice was hushed and she reached out, covering his hand with hers and gripping onto it tightly. “Stiles loves you. He _adores_ you. And neither one of you are alone in this. I’m not going anywhere. Scott’s not going anywhere. And I’m pretty sure that Lydia’s going to become a fixture in the Stilinski household for the foreseeable future. You’re not alone. And we’re not going to lose Stiles. We’ll get him through this. All of us.”   
  
Michael's chest tightened at Melissa's words. He watched her for a second before using his other hand to cover hers. "What would I do without you?" He asked quietly. Melissa had been there for him so many times over the years. He had gotten used to her presence. She was a part of his family...a big part.   
  
She squeezed his hand again. “That works both ways, Sheriff Stilinski.” She smiled softly. “Single parents of boys with a penchant for getting into trouble together have to stick together.” He’d been there for her over the years, too, though Scott didn’t tend to get into nearly as much trouble as Stiles did -- unless Stiles was involved. Fortunately at heart, Stiles had always been a good kid. He just tended to find trouble more easily than Scott did on his own. It didn’t make her love him any less. He was just their troubled child, and he had reasons that he couldn’t really help.   
  
He chuckled lightly and nodded. "You're right about that," he said with a grin. He glanced over at the stairs before looking back at Melissa. "What do you say we go check on our kids?" He asked with a squeeze of her hand.   
  
Melissa smiled at him warmly. “I think that’s a good idea. And then I’ll make us all some breakfast.” She was concerned at how little Stiles was eating. He’d lost at least ten pounds in the last few weeks. She hoped that if they kept making the things that she knew he loved, he’d start eating more.   
  
Michael left his coffee on the table and stood holding his hand out to Melissa and arching an eyebrow. "You know if you keep this up you're going to spoil us." He told her with a small smile. Michael liked when they were all together for breakfast or dinner, it made them feel like a real family.   
  
“Somehow I don’t think either one of you are going to take advantage. Besides, everyone needs a little spoiling sometimes.” She rose to her feet as well, taking his hand. She liked spending time with the boys and Michael all together, too. She knew it meant a lot to both of their sons when they did. Scott adored the sheriff, and Stiles seemed to care about her a great deal.   
  
Michael tugged Melissa forward gently and walked with her up the stairs. “I haven’t heard a peep from them all morning, they were tired,” he commented as he stepped off the last stair and into the hallway. “I’m glad they’re resting though. Those three...I worry about them being involved in all of this, especially Scott, having to take on everyone’s problems because he’s the...alpha,” he said finding the word as they moved forward. “I’m not sure how you don’t worry twenty-four seven with that,” he commented as he pushed open Stiles bedroom door quietly.   
  
“No, it’s been very quiet since they turned in last night,” she agreed. It was a little after nine now, and she was actually surprised she’d managed to sleep past the time when the sun rose outside. She was normally up at dawn unless she was working an overnight shift. At his words, she smiled, but it was wry. “Believe me, I do,” she informed him, pausing as she peered into Stiles’ bedroom, raising her eyebrows at the sight that lay in front of her.   
  
Michael opened his mouth as his gaze settled on his son’s bed, but he was at a loss for words. Stiles was in the middle of the bed stretched out, Lydia to his right, wrapped in his arms. Her arm was thrown over his stomach and her hand was threaded through Scott’s on the other side of Stiles. Scott was on his side his calf thrown over Stiles leg. His body was stretched out and he was snoring lightly. Michael arched an eyebrow, “Should we be worried about this?” He asked slightly amused.   
  
Melissa pursed her lips, remembering how many times when they were younger that she’d find Scott curled up around Stiles because he’d had a bad dream. If it had been any other kids she may have been a little concerned. “Well. It is Scott and Stiles. They were bound to corrupt Lydia sooner or later.” Her lips twitched.   
  
Michael did his best not to smirk at Melissa’s obvious amusement. He sighed, “Poor girl.” He shook his head, “I bet she never saw it coming.” He joked quietly playing into Melissa’s words. He placed his hand at the small of her back as he stood there silently for a minute. “She really cares about them,” he commented quietly, “I misjudged her,” Michael said softly, “I used to tell Stiles not to waste his time on that one.” He admitted, his chest tightening.   
  
Melissa couldn’t help but smile at his words. “She was doomed.” She glanced at him sideways, seeing the familiar guilt on his face. It was the same look she’d seen on Stiles’ face so many times over the years. She wondered if he had any idea how much they looked alike sometimes. “I used to tell him the same thing,” she said honestly. “But everyone can change.” Her voice was quiet, reassuring.   
  
Michael nodded, “She saved my son’s life...and I think back to all the times I thought terrible things about her and how she didn’t deserve someone like Stiles and honestly I feel terrible about it,” he spoke quietly. “And Scott seeing everything he’s had to deal with, I should have realized sooner about the whole werewolf thing. I should have been more open minded so he would have felt comfortable telling me. I didn’t even believe Stiles at first when he told me,” Michael sighed knowing he shouldn’t be standing there feel sorry for himself when there was so much other stuff going on.   
  
“Michael.” She looked at him with empathy. “I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve thought the same thing about the girls that Scott and Stiles liked.” Well, with Stiles it had always been Lydia. But Scott had gotten crushes from time to time, and she was a mother and no one was ever going to be good enough in her eyes. Probably. She was quiet for a moment, considering the rest of what he said. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I probably wouldn’t have believed it either. You can’t fault yourself for not believing in something we’ve grown up believing was nothing but fiction.”   
  
He sighed and nodded, “I know you’re right. I just don’t want the boys to ever feel like they can’t come to me. I’ll always protect them no matter what,” he said matter-of-factly. He had in the past and he’d continue to in the future.   
  
A soft noise came from the bed of teenagers and Michael watched as Lydia mumbled something in her sleep and pressed herself closer to his son, resting her head in the crook of his neck.   
  
Melissa watched as Stiles shifted, too, resting his head against Lydia’s and sighing in his sleep. “He seems like he’s sleeping peacefully,” she murmured.   
  
Michael’s chest tightened, “He does,” he whispered, “The first time in a long time.” He admitted. Michael wrapped an arm around Melissa, “We should let them sleep.”   
  
She looked up at him and smiled softly. “Agreed. We should also finish the coffee so that no one is tempted to take the caffeine ride out of actual rest.”   
  
Michael chuckled, “I couldn’t agree more,” he said as he guided Melissa out of the room closing the door behind him hoping whatever amount of sleep they got would be enough.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles threw up twice before breakfast the morning of the day he and Lydia decided to go to school. He’d known it was coming before he even got out of bed, had felt the nausea rolling in his stomach even as he’d slept. He’d launched himself out of bed and barely made it into the bathroom before throwing up everything he’d eaten the day before. He was just damn glad that his dad had already been downstairs so he’d missed out on the sounds of Stiles’ retching.   
  
He was pretty sure that throwing up was on his dad’s list of precursors for why Stiles mandatorily missed school. He’d scrubbed the toilet, sprayed air freshener, and cleaned up in the shower after there was nothing left in his stomach. His heart, however, was still beating too quickly, so he turned the water to straight hot, scalding his skin just to snap himself out of the approaching panic attack.   
  
Fortunately it had worked, at least temporarily. Scott and Lydia were supposed to be picking him up for his first day back and even though he knew Scott could hear his heartbeat, he hoped that his best friend would just assume he’d taken enough Adderall that he could focus on his classes that day without distraction. He had spent the last few days trying to do homework, and had gotten a chunk of it done, mostly when Scott or Lydia were working on their own homework while they sat around the kitchen table. But he was going to be taking some zeroes on things. He didn’t care that much. It wasn’t like school even mattered anymore.   
  
He gathered his things and went downstairs, setting his bag and his jacket by the front door before taking a deep breath and making his way into the kitchen, where his dad was sitting reading the newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee. “Hey, Dad.”   
  
Michael glanced up and smiled at his son. When Stiles decided it was time to go back to school he’d been hesitant to agree with the decision. Scott had gone back to school last week, but Lydia had stayed with Stiles until he decided it was time to go back. But Scott and Lydia had been permanent fixtures in the Stilinski household lately. Even Melissa was spending more time there and slowly things were starting to become a bit more routine. “Morning, son.” he motioned towards the microwave. “I put some eggs on a plate for you. Left them in the microwave so they’d stay warm.” He told him.   
  
“Thanks,” he said, heading over to the microwave and grimacing at the thought of eggs. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will his stomach to obey and behave before pulling the plate from the microwave. Drawing in another deep breath to try and calm his frazzled nerves, he moved over to the table, sitting down across from his dad. “You working today?” He honestly couldn’t remember. He used to be so good at keeping track of things like that and now it just felt like a struggle just to get up in the mornings.   
  
Michael glanced over the paper at his son, “I am, double shift.” He said trying not to stare. Stiles was paler than he remembered and he still looked a little too skinny. Michael averted his eyes to the paper once again and cleared his throat. “Melissa is coming over tonight,” he said lightly, “She said something about empanadas for dinner.”   
  
Stiles grimaced. “Another double?” It made him anxious that his dad was having to work so many extra shifts. _Because of you,_ he heard Scott’s dad say in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure why, but at some point in the last three weeks, he was hearing Scott’s douchey father in his head instead of just the Nogitsune’s. Maybe that was just going to be part of his illness. He hoped not, considering how little regard he had for the man. He shoveled a bite of eggs into his mouth, trying to focus on his dad and not his anxiety. “Yeah? That sounds good.”   
  
Michael folded the paper and put it aside as he brought his coffee to his lips and took a sip. He placed his mug back down on the table and then reached into his pocket and pulled out two sets of keys. “I’m not sure what happened to your old set,” he explained while sliding them over to Stiles, “But here’s a new set. One for you and one for Scott.” He said with half a smile. “So, how are you feeling about your first day back?” He inquired.   
  
He looked from his dad to the keys, chest tightening as he realized he wasn’t entirely sure where his key had ended up either. Which meant it could be out there, potentially in the hands of someone dangerous. “Maybe we should just...maybe we should change the locks. You know? Just to be careful. Safe side and everything.” He swallowed hard, not taking the keys. “I sorta…” His voice trailed off and he shrugged. It dawned on him that not only did he not know where his own keys were, but that meant that he’d lost his key to the McCall’s house, too, and put them in more danger as well. The nausea was definitely on its way back. “A little nervous,” he murmured.   
  
Michael titled his head to the side, “I had the locks changed,” he commented pointing to the second set of keys. “That’s why there are new ones for Scott too. And I had someone go by and change Melissa’s locks too just to be safe.” Melissa and Scott were family and he needed to make sure they were taken care of and safe even if Scott was a werewolf. “Melissa is bringing over a new spare key for you later.” He told Stiles as he considered his sons words. “What are you nervous about?”   
  
All the air rushed out of his lungs at that, and he had to struggle not to slump in relief at his dad’s forethought. “Good,” he whispered. “That’s good.” He swallowed hard, reaching out and taking the two keys. “Thanks for...the one for Scott, too.” He blinked a few times to try and clear his vision and shoveled another bite of egg into his mouth, not wanting his dad to worry. “Mostly just...I didn’t exactly finish all the homework I’m behind on. It’s gonna pull down my grades.”   
  
Michael watched him closely for a minute before nodding, “I talked to your teachers, it should be fine. You’ll catch up.” He said with a small smile. “You should finish up, Lydia and Scott will probably be here soon.” Michael commented as he took another sip of his coffee.   
  
Stiles nodded, taking a drink of his milk and finishing his eggs quickly. “Don’t work too hard, okay?” he said, voice quiet. “Try and take it easy.”   
  
Michael’s expression softened, “You too...And you’re sure you want to go back to school today?” He asked trying again to see if Stiles wanted to maybe wait a little while longer.   
  
“Gotta get back on the horse sometime, right?” He managed a tiny smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He knew he was going to get looks. He knew people had noticed that day in gym class when he’d tackled Scott right before Allison had been shot. Someone -- likely multiple someone’s -- had to have put together that he’d known what was going on. What was about to happen. They’d had to have noticed that his behavior had changed. That he wasn’t himself.   
  
He was going to get stared at, gossiped about. It wasn’t going to be pretty. The fact that he’d missed over three weeks of school -- just like Lydia -- was only going to add to the rumor mill. He was terrified, but more for her than himself.   
  
Michael nodded and gave his son a tight smile, “Right,” he said and sat there for another minute quietly. He was about to say something when there was a knock on the door.   
  
Stiles rose to his feet, moving over to hug his dad quickly before taking his plate to the sink. “I’ll do these after school, okay? Don’t worry about it.”   
  
Michael stood up and stepped forward resting a hand on Stiles shoulder, “I love you, have a good day and don’t forget your keys.” He told him pointing to the table.   
  
“Right. Keys. Might come in handy.” He smiled faintly, looking at his dad for a moment. “Be careful at work.” He resisted the urge to hug him again, just because he was afraid hugging him again would make his dad more nervous about him going to school but it wasn’t _normal_. He moved over and grabbed the two keys before heading for the door. “See you at dinner hopefully.”   
  
“I’ll be there,” he called out carefully.   
  
“My key doesn’t work!” Scott yelled through the door, “Stiles, I can’t get in...what’s happening?” He asked talking through the thick wooden door.   
  
Michael couldn’t help chuckling. He shook his head, “I’d let your friend in before he breaks the door down.” He said lightly before he started moving down the hallway towards his room to finish getting ready.   
  
“Dad.” His chest tightened as his father headed up the stairs. “I love you, too.” He bit his lower lip and then quickly moved toward the door, unlocking and opening it. “Sorry man. Dad changed the lock because I lost my keys.” He hesitated. “I lost the one to your house too. He said someone already changed them, though. Sorry.” He reached down, grabbing his bag off the floor and slinging it over one shoulder.   
  
Scott nodded, “Yeah, they came the other day.” He reached out and patted Stiles on the back sensing the anxiety rolling off of him in waves. “No worries, you don’t have to apologize dude. You ready to head out? Lydia’s waiting in the car.” He told his friend. It was clear that Stiles was nervous and Scott wasn’t sure what to do to help his friend short of telling him he should take another day off, but he knew Stiles couldn’t keep doing that. He was going to have to go back eventually so it might as well be now.   
  
“Yeah. Let’s go,” he said, relaxing just a little at Scott’s reassuring voice. “I didn’t get totally caught up on homework. Did you? I mean, from before? Before you went back?”   
  
Scott guided Stiles outside as he shook his head. “No,” he still had a couple of things to make up. “But it’s only a few things and Lydia’s been helping me with what I don’t know,” he explained as they walked out, the car sitting in the driveway. “Are you ready for this?” He asked.   
  
“Totally,” he said cheerfully, reaching out and patting Scott’s back. “It’s time to get back to normal, you know?” Even if his heart was beating too fast and the eggs in his stomach were already turning over and over and he was praying that he didn’t puke in Lydia’s car. He headed for the driver’s side, knocking on the window lightly and offering her a small smile.   
  
Lydia was in the process of fixing her lip gloss and at the knock she glanced over and smiled, her expression changing immediately and warming. She closed the mirror and tossed it and her lip gloss into her purse before waving.   
  
Scott could hear Stiles’ heartbeat and even though he was concerned with how fast it was beating he knew Stiles had to be nervous about coming back to school. It had been three weeks since he and Lydia were in school and people had definitely noticed. Scott chalked the fast heartbeat up to nerves and reached for the handle. “Hey dude, you want shotgun?” he asked figuring Stiles would want to ride up front with Lydia.   
  
Stiles almost asked if the back windows in Lydia’s car rolled down because that way if his stomach didn’t make it all the way to school, she wouldn’t be pissed at him for ruining her car. But that would be a weird thing to ask, and Scott was offering, so going with the flow seemed like the easier, better option. “Yeah, thanks, man.” He smiled as he moved around to the passenger side and slid into the seat. “Hey.”   
  
Lydia smiled, “Hey,” she said as Scott got in the back seat and pulled the door shut behind him. She hadn’t liked leaving Stiles last night and if she was being honest she didn’t exactly have the best night’s sleep. But it wasn’t something she was going to complain over. She’d live.   
  
Lydia put the car in gear and pulled out of the Stilinski driveway, an odd feeling fluttering in her stomach. Scott sat in the back glancing between Lydia and Stiles and trying to relax. It was possible he was a little nervous too even though he probably didn’t have a right to be.   
  
“Music?” Stiles asked, hoping if nothing else it might drown out the sound of his heartbeat for Scott a little. He glanced at Lydia sideways.   
  
She nodded, “Go for it,” she said as she drove down the street.   
  
Stiles switched on the music to a light rock channel and sat back in the seat, trying to just steady his breathing, gripping tightly onto his backpack straps so that his hands didn’t shake as much.   
  
They were halfway to school before Lydia was able to place the feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was anxiety, which was odd because she wasn’t particularly anxious...unless the anxiety wasn’t hers. Lydia swallowed hard her heartbeat thudding loudly.   
  
Scott heard the shift in Lydia’s heartbeat and he wondered what had caused it. He decided to try and calm everyone down by talking. “Coach has been asking about you.” he commented sticking his head up front between the seats.   
  
Stiles glanced over his shoulder at Scott when he spoke. “Yeah? What’s he saying? ‘Is that pain in the ass Bolinski kid ever coming back to help us out?’”   
  
Scott chuckled, “No, he actually used the right name,” Scott said with a grin. “I think coach actually likes you man,” he teased reaching over the seat and squeezing his friend’s shoulders.   
  
Lydia glanced at Stiles out of the corner of her eye as she continued down the road, not saying much. It had been weird getting ready for school that morning, but she’d gone through the same routine as always and Lydia was hoping if she continued doing that things would somehow go back to normal.   
  
She hesitated for a minute before reaching out with one hand and resting it on Stiles’ leg, keeping her other hand firmly on the wheel.   
  
Some of the tension left his body as soon as Scott touched his shoulder and Lydia put a hand on his leg. No, that wasn’t going to make things complicated if he couldn’t get by on his own without them every second of the day. He laid his head back against the seat. “Who even knew Coach liked _anyone?_ I mean the guy didn’t even like --” He paused before he could say _Jackson_. “ -- you know, _you_ forever.”   
  
Scott grinned. “Coach loves me.” He joked as they pulled into the school parking lot. He sat back and blinked, “We’re here already?” He asked.   
  
Lydia arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, “You act like the school is far from Stiles’ house,” she said amused. She pulled the car into a spot and parked shutting the engine off.   
  
Scott caught sight of the time before the car went off and he grunted. He didn’t want to run off and leave them especially since it was Stiles’ first day back, but at the same time he needed to go make up that test. “You guys going to be okay? I’m supposed to be meeting with our Chem teacher before class I need to make up a test.”   
  
Stiles swallowed hard as he stared at the school, dread sweeping over him. It had definitely been too quick of a drive for his liking, but Lydia was right. It was a fifteen minute walk from his house to the school. By car, it was less than five. “Yeah. What about you?” He turned his head to look at Lydia. “You gonna be okay?” It was her first day back, too.   
  
Lydia turned and glanced at Scott, “Come on, who are you talking to,” she said before flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’m Lydia Martin, I’m always ready.” She said as she dropped her keys into her purse and pulled her bag onto her shoulder.   
  
Stiles smiled a little at Lydia’s gesture, watching as she got ready to get out of the car, turning to look at Scott, and reaching up to pat his hand lightly.   
  
Scott grinned. “Alright I’ll see you guys at lunch.” He placed a hand on Stiles shoulder, “If you need me just text me,” he said squeezing his friends shoulder one last time before getting out of the car and jogging quickly in the direction of the entrance.   
  
Lydia glanced at Stiles. “Good to go?” She asked the nervousness in her stomach clearly coming from him.   
  
“Yeah, let’s...get this over with.” At least he only had to worry about doing this once. The rumor mill at school would die down after a few days, hopefully. It was just the first time he’d really be subjected to it since his mom had died. He reached for the door handle, hitching his bag up and over his shoulders, securing it in place.   
  
Lydia pushed her car door open shutting it behind her and walked around to the passenger side of the car. She watched Stiles as he shifted his bag and held out a hand to him.. “It’s going to be fine,” she said soothingly.   
  
As much as Stiles wanted to take her hand, he hesitated. “Lydia, if we walk in there holding hands…” He looked down. “It already looks suspicious since we’ve both been out so long. Are you sure that…”   
  
Lydia frowned, “I don’t care what people say.” She told him as she took a step closer to him. “You’re anxious Stiles and it’s practically getting worse by the second.” She told him softly. “Let me help. This is high school people are always going to talk,” she rolled her eyes, “But nothing they say means anything to me.” She angled her head to the side, “What matters is that you’re okay.” She said offering him her hand again. “You’re not alone.”   
  
Stiles drew in a breath and then reached out, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together. “That obvious, huh?” It was a stupid question, really, considering he had beads of sweat on his forehead. “Okay. Let’s do this.”   
  
Lydia leaned into him and tugged him forward gently, “Slightly obvious,” she didn’t think telling Stiles she could feel his anxiety was a good idea so she kept it to herself. “How was your night last night?” She asked trying to distract him as they walked towards the entrance of the school, people already starting to glance in their direction.   
  
Stiles’ hand tightened around hers a fraction as he tried his best not to even acknowledge the looks as they headed inside, but it was kind of hard to ignore the fact that an actual _hush_ fell over the semi-busy hallway. “It was okay.” He’d slept for about an hour and a half and then tossed and turned the rest of the night, worried about today.   
  
Lydia kept her head held high as she held onto Stiles arm with her free hand so both hands were on him. “I wonder if the sheriff is going to ban sleepovers on school nights,” she joked lightly continuing down the hallway completely ignoring the people watching them. Lydia spotted Allison and Isaac towards the end of the hallway near Allison’s locker. The lack of noise must have caught their attention because they glanced up and Lydia’s gaze met Allison’s. She gave her friend half a smile and continued walking.   
  
A wave of nausea rolled over him at the sight of Allison and Isaac. Apparently that was a thing that happened when you ran across people you’d tried to brutally murder and actually almost succeeded. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “Hopefully not.” Because he had the feeling he was actually going to really need that after the day was over today. If he managed to make it through the day to begin with. “I mean, no. Probably not. I don’t...I don’t think he’d do that.” He was too worried about Stiles’ mental health to ban Lydia or Scott either one from spending the night, school night regardless.   
  
Lydia swallowed heavily when her stomach clenched. She steered Stiles away from Allison and Isaac taking them in a different direction. She squeezed his hand gently as they turned the corner nearly knocking into someone. “Jeez, watch where-” but her words died off when she caught sight of who was in front of them.   
  
Lydia’s body tensed her gaze meeting Ethan’s. She swallowed hard. “Ethan,” his name left her lips in a short breath the image of Aiden’s dead body flashing briefly in front of her eyes and she did her best not to flinch.   
  
Stiles froze in place at the sight of the other guy, his hand tightening around Lydia’s for a brief second before he dropped it. The man standing in front of them had more reason to hate him than nearly everyone else _put together_. His face drained of all color, lips parting because he knew he should say _something._ But what the hell could he ever possibly say to Ethan? _Sorry that I ripped your brother’s heart out of his chest?_   
  
Similar images flashed in his own mind and he knew the eggs his dad had fixed him for breakfast were about to be make their reappearance. He quickly moved away from both of them, making a beeline for the men’s restroom, just barely making it to one of the stalls and slamming it shut before throwing up.   
  
Lydia was torn. Her gaze followed Stiles briefly wanting to follow him, but needing to make sure Ethan was okay also. Her stomach rolled and she paled bringing her hand to her stomach. She looked back at Ethan, “I’m so sorry about Aiden,” she whispered, the emotion clear in her voice. “I can’t imagine-” her words cut off and her chest tightened. Lydia felt sick to her stomach and she wasn’t sure if it was from Stiles, herself or both.   
  
Ethan closed his eyes for a moment, allowing his tension to fade a little once Stilinski vanished from sight. His brother wouldn’t want him to take things out on the girl he’d been dating. And that wasn’t his style anyway. “It wasn’t your fault.” He was silent for a few seconds. “He really cared about you. You know that right?”   
  
Lydia felt the calm facade she’d built up start to crack as moisture pooled in her eyes. She nodded, “I know,” she said quietly as she looked down. Despite Ethan’s words Lydia couldn’t seem to stop blaming herself for Aiden’s death. If she had just gotten to Stiles in time, if she had figured out what was happening to him then he never would have been possessed and he wouldn’t have killed Aiden.   
  
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save him,” she said softly. “If I had known...If I had understood,” she paused still glancing down and brushed the tears from her eyes. “I wish...I wish I could change things, I wish we hadn’t been fighting, I wish he knew that I did care.” Even though it didn’t always come off that way, Lydia added silently. “I’m _so_ sorry,” she said again knowing that the words probably didn’t help, but needing to say them anyway.   
  
Ethan hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her. “You were good for him. Brought him back down to reasonable ground. It really wasn’t your fault.” No, that blame lay firmly with one person who’d just turned tail and run like a complete coward. “He knew you cared.” He shut his eyes for a few seconds before pulling away once more. “Are you doing okay? You missed a lot of school.” Not that he hadn’t. He’d only come back last week himself, and he’d contemplated not coming back at all. The problem was, he literally had nothing left if he didn’t.   
  
Ethan was being too nice to her and it only made her chest tighten further. Lydia swallowed hard, “Things have been...complicated.” She said hesitantly, “I was unconscious for a while, so school was, I couldn’t come.” And she spent the rest of her time with Stiles because he needed her. But somehow she didn’t think Ethan would take kindly to that information and why would he? The Nogitsune used Stiles body to kill his brother. Lydia reached out and rested a hand on his arm, “How are you holding up?” Lydia hoped he wasn’t isolating himself from everyone that would only make his pain worse. She hated thinking that he was all alone now.   
  
Ethan tensed just a little at her words about being unconscious. No doubt that was one more thing Stilinski was responsible for. “I’m…” He shrugged, looking down. “Danny’s been really great. And he knows everything now. I told him. This town isn’t safe enough for him not to know what’s really going on.” He looked up at her.   
  
Lydia nodded, “I’m glad you told him. I’m glad he knows.” She said quietly, “You shouldn’t be alone.” She told him softly. “Are you-” Lydia’s words cut off as her stomach rolled with anxiety once again, her heartbeat picking up speed. She felt like she was going to be sick. “Um,” she swallowed hard trying to focus her thoughts, “Are you staying in Beacon Hills?” She asked softly.   
  
Ethan’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched her. “Lydia, your heart’s beating really fast. Are you all right?” He frowned, stepping closer to her. “Do you need to sit down?”   
  
Lydia shook her head, “No I...I just.” She paused not sure what to say to him. “It’s complicated.” She said her brows furrowing as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a minute, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. She and Scott were going to have to talk to Deaton soon so he could tell her how the connection between her and Stiles kept getting stronger to the point that her body was mimicking his anxiety. There had to be a way to control that.   
  
Ethan put a hand on her shoulder. “Okay. Maybe I should find Scott for you. Or Allison.” He pursed his lips, not sure what to do for her, but she looked like she was ready to throw up or pass out, or possibly both at the same time.   
  
Lydia shook her head quickly, “Don’t worry Scott, I need,” She hesitated, “I have to go, I’m sorry,” she said genuinely. “Any time you need anything, you can always call me.” She squeezed his arm gently, “You’re not alone.” Lydia glanced around the hallway to make sure no one was watching her before she moved away from Ethan and headed for the boys bathroom.   
  
Ethan watched her go, concerned, but also very confused.   
  
Stiles stood silently at one of the sinks in the boy’s bathroom, splashing cold water on his face as he tried to get his stomach to calm down once more. He felt a terrible, crushing weight of guilt on his chest as various images of Aiden flashed through his mind. Everything from Aiden helping kill Boyd to seeing him with Lydia walking down the hallways at school, sitting with him and the rest of the group at lunch, and finally, the moment of terror in his eyes as Stiles leaned over him, nails digging into his chest. His grip on the sink tightened, knuckles turning white.   
  
He shouldn’t have come back to school. He hadn’t thought about Ethan still being around, and that just added to the weight of the guilt he felt. And it was only the tip of the iceberg, really. He didn’t even know the families of the other people who’d died because of him. He wondered how he was ever going to be able to face someone like Chris Argent again. _Why didn’t he just kill me?_ he thought miserably.   
  
Lydia pushed her way into the boy’s bathroom the sight of Stiles leaning over the sink making her heart clench. Lydia ignored her frantically beating heart and came up behind him resting her hands on his shoulders. "Take a deep breath Stiles," her words were calm despite the fact that she felt the complete opposite.   
  
He shut his eyes at her words, at the feel of her hands on his shoulders. He forced himself to take a deep breath as she instructed, because what other choice did he really have? He was _alive_ , even if he shouldn’t be. It hurt. Everything _hurt_. “I’m okay, I just -- I wasn’t…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head.   
  
"It's okay," Lydia said softly. "You're okay." She rubbed his back leaning into him carefully. "Take another deep breath," she shifted back, "Look at me," Lydia insisted softly.   
  
Stiles’ hands were still gripping tightly onto the sink but he managed to look at her, pained expression on his face. He swallowed hard, aware of how pale she was, too, and he didn’t understand why she looked almost as sick as he felt.   
  
Lydia held his gaze through the mirror, her heart starting to slow down just a bit and it was in that moment that she realized something. Pain filled her gaze, "You remember...don't you?" There was no other explanation for his reaction to Ethan.   
  
Stiles wanted to deny it. Wanted to tell her no, that he’d just read about Aiden’s death in the paper and made the connection, seen the way that Ethan had looked at him. But he didn’t have it in him to tell another lie right then. He just didn’t. Stiles turned away from her, squeezing his eyes shut again and letting out a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry, Lydia.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I tried to stop it, I just...I couldn’t. And I’m sorry.” There would never be enough words in the world for the amount of apologies he owed. There was nothing he could do to make it better for anyone. _Why didn’t he just kill me?_   
  
Lydia couldn't stop the tears that slipped from her eyes. She swallowed heavily. "It wasn't you Stiles. It was the Nogitsune. Not __you."__   She stressed. Lydia shifted pressing her hand against his stomach gently pushing him away from the sink enough that she could slip between him and the cold porcelain. She slid her arms around him. "Take another deep breath I know it's hard but you need to calm down."   
  
“I don’t think that really matters, Lydia,” he whispered thickly. “I was there. It was my body. My hands.” He shut his eyes. The supernatural strength hadn’t been his, but the Nogitsune had used his body to wield that power, had hurt and killed. Because he was weak. He forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard wincing at Stiles' words. She knew it wasn't him. She didn't blame him. But she couldn't help the tears that broke from her eyes. Her grip on Stiles tightened as his heartbeat finally started to slow enough that she didn't feel like she was going to keel over and vomit. "What can I do?" She whispered.   
  
Stiles wanted to ask her not to tell anyone that he remembered. But that wasn’t fair to Lydia. He didn’t know what to tell her because he didn’t know what to do, either. “Just...don’t hate me. I think that’s all that…” He looked down, shaking his head.   
  
Lydia held a pained expression on her face for a minute at his words. She cupped his cheeks gently forcing him to look at her. "I could never hate you. Ever." She told him before swallowing hard. "If I hated you I wouldn't be here, but I am.” Lydia brushed her thumbs against his cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere Stiles."   
  
His one request was seemingly so easy, but in reality it was more than he had a right to ask of her or anyone. Wordlessly he leaned his forehead against hers for a second, wanting to reach up and grasp onto her arms but resisting the urge. “We’re gonna be late to class,” he whispered.   
  
"Yes, we are. So you, better get in gear Stilinski because we can't miss any more classes." She said softly, but she didn't make a move to leave. She kept a hand on his face moving the other to his midsection. She leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. "We should get to class." She said finally feeling calm.   
  
Stiles shut his eyes, feeling too tired now to feel anxious anymore. Like all of the trauma had already caught up with him for the day and drained him entirely. “Yeah, we should.” He reluctantly pulled away from her, opening his eyes once more and then moved to pick up his book bag that he’d dropped on the floor in his rush to make it to the toilet on time.   
  
Lydia let out a short breath as she watched Stiles get his bag. She waited for him to turn and then held out her hand again as she fixed her bag on her shoulder that was holding her books.   
  
Stiles’ fingers curled around hers as they headed back into the hallway, and he tried his best to prepare for going back out there when all he really wanted to do was go straight back home, to his room and collapse in his bed.   


______

  
  
He’d barely managed to stay awake in his morning classes and by lunch time, Stiles felt like the walking dead. Maybe he should have just planned to come to school for a half day for a few days. His energy level was well under levels that most people would consider normal, and he was emotionally frayed. He’d managed to choke down exactly two bites of lunch, trying not to look at Scott or Lydia because he didn’t want to see the worry on their faces, but his nerves were just too raw to eat.   
  
It was after sixth period that he realized he didn’t have the right textbook for his next class and he made a trip back to his locker. The hallways were empty and silent, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end as his fingers stilled on his locker’s combination lock. He felt his heart skip a beat and he shut his eyes for a moment, slowly turning around only to be slammed backwards into his locker with a fist to his face. Everything went dark.   
  
It didn’t take Ethan long to drag Stiles off school grounds. He hadn’t bothered with his bike, he wasn’t going far. He glanced down at Stiles as he dragged his body into the woods, leaves crunching beneath his feet. The kid barely weighed anything and every time he looked at him, all he wanted to do was tear his throat out. But that would be too simple. No, Ethan was going to make him suffer.   
  
He reached his destination and tossed Stiles to the ground a few feet away hearing a slight groan coming from the teenager’s mouth. He held his ground and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at the kid who killed his brother. “Get up,” he spit out.   
  
Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed and he was trying to figure out why the taste of blood was in his mouth. When his eyes opened, it took a moment for his vision to focus and when it did, it rested on the face of the guy he’d murdered. No, he thought, head a little fuzzy. Not Aiden. Ethan.   
  
Stiles didn’t get up; he simply remained on the ground, not moving. “Go ahead.”   
  
Ethan glared down at Stiles, “I don’t need your permission. Get up,” he said again, “Now. Don’t make me tell you again.” He said anger and pain coursing through his veins.   
  
Stiles didn’t have the energy or desire to move especially when he knew what was coming. He closed his eyes for a moment, figuring he owed the guy that much at the very least. He rose to shaky feet, jaw aching from where Ethan had already hit him once. He had a feeling it wasn’t going to be painful for long. He opened his eyes, letting out a breath and not moving toward the other man. He wanted to apologize, to tell Ethan that he’d tried to stop himself, but words meant nothing at the end of the day. He stood silently, waiting with tired eyes.   
  
Ethan arched an eyebrow, “Oh what, you’re not going to run away like a coward again like you did this morning?” He asked taking a step closer not giving Stiles a chance to answer, “Do you recognize this place?” He asked his tone conversational, but the anger was clear in his eyes.   
  
How could he not recognize one of the places he’d committed murder in? Stiles’ gaze drifted the ground, images of the fight with Aiden and Isaac washing over him. He remembered screaming at his body. STOP. Don’t do this. STOP. But his body no longer listened to him. It only listened to the Nogitsune. And the more Stiles screamed and protested the more power the Nogitsune seemed to gain.   
  
“I’ll take your silence as a yes,” He said pointedly. “You shouldn’t have come back.” He said as he started to circle Stiles, his eyes going blue. “I don’t know why Lydia bothers to even acknowledge your presence after what you did.” Ethan lets himself change, letting out a low growl and stopping in front of Stiles. “They should have killed you then,” he took a step closer, “But don’t worry, I’m going to fix that now.” He said before slamming his fist into Stiles’ face.   
  
Ethan was right. He shouldn’t have come back. He shouldn’t have lived at all. He hit the ground hard, but made no attempt to get back up. Pain made his body shudder, but he turned to look at Ethan. A flicker of panic was somewhere in the back of his mind as he imagined his dad’s face. Scott’s. Lydia’s. But his own sense of guilt and exhaustion held that back for the most part.   
  
Ethan leapt forward grabbing the collar of Stiles shirt before lifting him off the ground and tossing his body into a nearby tree as a growl left his throat. “You thought you could just get away with killing Aiden,” he yelled as he closed the distance between him and the tree quickly, “That you wouldn’t have to pay for what you did. Why? Why my brother?” He asked as he slammed his fist into Stiles’ face again.   
  
Stiles hit the tree hard, wincing as he felt a rib crack with the impact, but before he could slide all the way to the grab, Ethan had grabbed him again. His body shuddered as it prepared for the next hit. “I wasn’t trying to get away with it,” he mumbled. “I asked Chris Argent to kill me.” He winced as the next hit landed just under his left eye, pain exploding in his cheek.   
  
“Well it looks like that didn’t happen,” He said as he slammed his fist into Stiles stomach his claws just barely cutting into his skin. “Why my brother Stilinski? Is it because he was dating your precious Lydia? Answer me!”   
  
A pained gasp escaped him at the sharp sting and the only reason he was even still standing was because Ethan was literally holding him up. “I didn’t go looking for him.” He coughed, blood trickling from his mouth. “He and Isaac came after me. I wasn’t in control,” he said weakly, knowing that didn’t make it any better.   
  
Ethan glared, “Yeah well, you’re not in control now either,” he said as he tossed him to the ground once again, “Your luck has officially run out. You took my brother’s life, now I’m going to take yours.” He said while sending a solid kick to Stiles’ side. He was tired of always doing the right thing. Aiden was the only person he had in his life, his brother. Now he was all alone in the world and he felt like he was suffocating. All he wanted was his brother back and since that wasn’t possible he’d get the next best thing...Revenge.   


______

  
  
Lydia glanced at the water as she washed her hands in the girl’s bathroom. She hated school bathrooms, they were disgusting. It was the middle of class and she’d had the oddest feeling since it started. Something felt off, but she couldn’t put her fingers on it and it was driving her nuts. Then again lately that was pretty much the story of her life. Lydia sighed and as she leaned forward to shut the water off she gasped and gripped her stomach.   
  
Her brows drew together as she sucked in a sharp breath. It felt like something had just knocked the wind out of her. “What the hell?” She mumbled and then like a damn freight train a barrage of emotions slammed into her nearly knocking her off balance and making her cry out softly. “Oh god,” Stiles. Something was wrong with Stiles.   
  
The emotional turmoil was almost debilitating as her heart sped up to the point that she was actually shaking. She needed to find Scott. Lydia grabbed her bag and stepped forward right as another wave of emotion hit her, guilt, pain, loss, fear. She fell to her knees and a sob was torn from her throat. Lydia could feel it building in her chest and panic slammed into her. No, no.   
  
She reached into her bag with shaky hands and gripped her cell phone dialing the number the seemed to be her new go to outside of Scott. Lydia could hear it ringing and she waited anxiously as she felt the scream building in her throat. A scream she refused to let out.   
  
He answered on the second ring. “...Lydia?” Derek’s voice was concerned, but also confused, immediately. He knew that she and Stiles had gone back to school today. Scott had texted him earlier to let him know they’d all ridden over together. The fact that she was calling in the middle of the day didn’t bode well.   
  
“Derek something's wrong with Stiles,” Lydia didn’t even bother with hello’s as another rush of pain, Stiles’ pain rushed through her. “Oh god,” her hand clenched against the bathroom floor, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I don’t know where Scott is, please I need you to find him, it’s bad, it’s really bad. I,” Lydia squeezed her eyes shut, her face paling as she tried to calm down her own heartbeat. It echoed in her head, “I can feel a scream,” she sucked in a sharp breath, “I can’t breathe,” she shook her head it wasn’t her, “Stiles can’t breathe.”   
  
Derek sucked in a breath at her words. “Okay, Lydia, I’m leaving right now and heading in that direction, okay? Do you have any idea where he might be? Is he in the school some place? Can you hear anything?” He grabbed his car keys and headed for the door, locking it behind him and heading down the stairs.   
  
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Lydia felt like it was the Nogitsune all over again. Messages she couldn’t understand. But that wasn’t true. She told Scott she was going to do better this time, she was going to listen. “I’m scared,” she admitted closing her eyes, “I can’t-” Lydia paused the line going silent. He was breathing in fresh air...he was outside. She tried to focus on what she was feeling and push back at that connection. Soft and wet...grass. Lydia’s eyes flew open. “He’s in the woods! Derek the woods by school where we jog, that’s got to be it.” Her words were rushed as the pounding in her head continued. “He doesn’t have a lot of time,” she whispered, “I can feel it…him.”   
  
“Okay, try to stay calm. I’ll be there in two minutes.” He gunned his car’s engine, steering it in the direction of the school and pressing his foot down hard on the gas pedal, agitation and worry flooding him. For Stiles, for Lydia. What the hell was going on now?   
  
It didn’t take Derek long to get to the woods by the school and he was out of the car and jogging into the woods in a matter of minutes. He shifted mid run scenting the air and following Stiles’ scent. The further he ran the more potent it got.   
  
He did a backflip down a drop deeper into the woods and that’s when he saw it. He pushed his body and leapt across the clearing tackling Ethan to the ground and rolling them several feet away from Stiles. He growled as he pinned the younger wolf to the ground. “You need to stop,” he said flashing his teeth.   
  
“He needs to die,” Ethan growled, trying to roll Derek off him. “He’s a murderer.”   
  
Derek let out another loud growl as shoved Ethan harden against the ground. “He was possessed, you know that, Ethan and you’re brother sought him out, not the other way around. He provoked the Nogitsune; Stiles had nothing to do with that.” He said sharply trying to keep him down even as he glanced over his shoulder towards Stiles who wasn’t moving. That wasn’t good.   
  
“He should’ve tried harder,” he snapped, eyes flashing blue as he glared at Derek. “He fought it long enough to save Scott.” The bitterness in his voice was unmistakable. “He didn’t care enough about Aiden to fight for him, though, did he?”   
  
Derek shook his head, “No offense Ethan, but can you blame him?” He asked grunting and then getting off of him. “I believe Stiles tried as hard as he could, this isn’t his fault and I need to get him to a hospital,” he said turning his back on Ethan so he could go over to Stiles.   
  
Without warning, he launched himself at Derek, claws out as he swiped at him, tackling him this time.   
  
“Son of a bitch,” Derek growled as he threw his body weight at Ethan making them roll across the ground fumbling for the high ground. They landed with a thud Derek below Ethan. He could see the other werewolf lifting his claw again aiming for his chest, but before that could happen, Scott appeared beside them, eyes glowing red, crouching down as he opened his mouth and howled loudly, the sound reverberating through the woods around them.   
  
Ethan cowered instantly, flinching at the sound, but narrowing his eyes and glaring at Scott. His claws retracted, eyes returning to normal as he rolled off of Derek. He slowly got to his feet, chest still heaving with anger and the exertion from the fight, but he said nothing, jaw tight as he waited.   
  
Scott glanced briefly at Derek, “How’d you know he was here?” He asked before glancing back at Ethan and shifting back, “Do you see Stiles?” He asked his voice strained. Anger was Scott’s current emotion, but as he looked at Ethan and saw the pain coming off him in waves, that anger he’d been holding on to since he got the feeling that Stiles was in trouble loosened slightly.   
  
“He needs a hospital, Scott.” Derek quickly moved over to where Stiles lay still several feet away, almost hidden by the trees. His pulse was there, Derek could hear it, but it was weaker than it should have been.   
  
Scott’s chest tightened, “Can you take him?” he asked hating to ask because he wanted to be the one to take him, but he needed to talk to Ethan and it couldn’t wait. “And can you check on Lydia, I felt something off before.” He said glancing over at Derek, his heart clutching when he finally spotted Stiles. He could smell the blood and it was making his nauseous. God, would this nightmare never end?   
  
“Yeah, I’m going. Lydia felt it. She’s the one who called me about Stiles. And we’re gonna have to talk about that sooner or later.” His voice was grim and he hesitated, trying to figure out the best way to pick Stiles up without making his injuries any worse.   
  
Scott gave a tired nod as he looked back at Ethan. “I understand...I do.” he said quietly. “I can feel how bad you’re hurting. I am sorry about Aiden, Ethan. I can’t imagine what this has to feel like for you, but Stiles...nobody blames Stiles more than he blames himself. He didn’t want to hurt your brother. He didn’t want to almost kill me or get Allison shot. He didn’t want to taunt Lydia or try to kill his own father, but all of those things still happened,” he said quietly.   
  
“You’re trying to punish him for something that isn’t his fault...and what about Lydia, I thought you cared about her.” He said quietly.   
  
Ethan stared at him for a long moment. “If it had been the other way around. If Aiden had been the one to kill Stiles...would you have just sat back and let him get away with it?” he asked bluntly.   
  
Scott hesitated, “Aiden was trying to kill Stiles because he was angry with him.” Scott pointed out, “The situation is different because Aiden wasn’t possessed...if he had been I like to think I would have taken the high road.” He said with a nod. “Stiles is a lot of things, but a murderer isn’t one of them. There’s been enough death Ethan.”   
  
Ethan looked away, some of the anger and hatred seeping out of him as he shut his eyes. “I won’t go near him again. But I’m not sure that I can…” He looked back at Scott. “Be in your pack if he’s in it, either.”   
  
Scott nodded, “I understand.” He swallowed hard, “Ethan whether you’re in my pack or not...you can always ask us for help if you need it. Packs, no packs, we’re all one and the same. You’ve helped us a lot over the past year and after everything that’s happened; we all just need a little peace.” He said quietly his chest tight. “I’ve gotta go check on Lydia and head to the hospital.” He wondered briefly if Derek already grabbed Lydia and headed to the hospital.   
  
Ethan was silent for a moment, then he nodded. “You should know that I told Danny everything. It was time for him to know what was going on around here. I think he had an idea already.” He turned to go, pausing in his tracks and looking back at the younger man. “Good luck, Scott. You’re a good alpha.”   
  
Scott’s chest tightened, “Somehow I feel like if that was true a lot less people would be dead. But thanks.” He nodded and then took off running as fast as he could needing to get to Stiles, nothing else mattered.


	6. Chapter 6

Derek made his way slowly down the hospital hallway, two cups of coffee in hand. He lifted an arm to cover a yawn. It was a quarter to one in the morning and they’d been at the hospital since that afternoon waiting for an update on Stiles. He spotted Scott in the same seat he’d left him in earlier with Lydia beside him, head on his shoulder out cold.   
  
He held one of the coffee cups out to Scott, “I figured you might need some.”   
  
“Thanks, man,” he said quietly, taking it from him and downing a big gulp of the caffeine. His eyes kept straying toward the ICU where Stiles was being watched over. He let out a breath, glancing briefly at Lydia and gently wrapping an arm around her. “I’m starting to feel like this is just an endless loop of hospital trips.”   
  
Derek nodded as he sat across from them. “That’s understandable. But it’ll get better,” he said figuring it couldn’t really get much worse. “Stiles is going to be okay.” He said matter-of-factly, his gaze shifting to Lydia, “Will she be?” He asked the panicked call from Lydia taking up residence in the forefront of his mind now that Stiles was taken care of.   
  
Scott sighed softly, laying his head back against the wall. “We’re sort of...something kind of unusual is happening,” he admitted. “At least I think it’s unusual. Alpha’s shouldn’t be able to feel people who aren’t wolves, right? I mean that’s not normal.” Regardless of the fact that Stiles and Lydia were most definitely part of his pack. He felt the same amount of protectiveness as he did over Isaac. Maybe more -- because Stiles was his _brother_.   
  
Derek pursed his lips, “That depends. Alpha’s have a connection to certain people or things that involve their pack. Can you tell me what you’re experiencing?” He asked knowing he wouldn’t be able to help until he knew exactly what was going on.   
  
“Mostly the emotions. Sometimes the physical feelings. I felt Stiles’ anxiety this morning. Like...a lot. It was kind of overwhelming.” Kind of was also an understatement. In a way he was glad he could feel his best friend because it gave him an idea of what was going on with him. “I can feel Lydia, too. Same deal.”   
  
Derek angled his head to the side and pointed at Lydia, “You’re bound to feel Lydia, she’s a banshee and technically while Lydia is still human, she’s also a supernatural being,” he explained. “Banshee’s are linked to both packs and emissaries. That could be why you can feel her.” Derek took a sip of his coffee, “But it’s her connection to Stiles that’s troubling me to be honest.” Derek had never seen a connection quite like there’s before and it was disconcerting especially when she called him in hysterics. After bringing Stiles to the hospital, he’d found Lydia at school passed out in the bathroom. It hadn’t been a pretty sight to step into.   
  
Scott considered that, glancing at the red head -- no. The strawberry blonde. He could practically see Stiles’ exasperated eyeroll at his own mental error and he smiled very faintly, wondering how long it was going to take his best friend to actually have that kind of reaction to anything again. “Wait.” He looked up at Derek suddenly, eyes widening. “She’s linked to the pack’s emissary? We don’t actually… I mean Deaton was the Hale family emissary, right? He just kinda helps me because I work for him and he likes me.”   
  
Derek nodded, “I don’t really know much about the whole emissary aspect of things. I didn’t even know Deaton was my Mother’s emissary until recently,” he said while leaning back and rubbing his neck. “You should talk to Deaton, he probably has more answers about that than I do.” He hesitated and then leaned forward.   
  
Scott’s mind was already on a possibility that made sense, at least, in his own mind. “I wonder if the emissary thing is...something a person is born with,” he murmured, gaze drifting to the ICU room door once again, heart beating a little quicker in his chest. Either way, things were starting to make a little more sense if his theory was right.   
  
Derek shrugged. That was also something Deaton was going to need to answer. “I do however know someone who knows his fair share about Banshee’s, but you’re not going to like it.” He said carefully.   
  
At Derek’s next words, Scott shifted his attention back to the older werewolf. He stared at him for a second and then grimaced. “Peter.”   
  
Derek gave a nod, “Trust me I hate to even suggest it, but he tends to know a lot more about these things than he lets on, which of course I’m sure there’s a reason for.” He said with a sigh. Derek and Peter had never really gotten along, even when Derek was a kid. He’d never particularly trusted his Uncle and he always wound up getting him involved in things that went badly. Derek’s heart clenched slightly at the thought of Paige, but he compartmentalized it and pushed it aside quickly. There was no room for that pain right now. “I’m afraid if she doesn’t learn how to block out the more severe emotions from Stiles she’s going to end up the way she was when she woke up in the hospital,” he told Scott honestly.   
  
Scott shut his eyes at that, reaching up and rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. “I’ll talk to Peter. And to Deaton.” Because not only did he not want Lydia to end up hurt again, but he knew if Lydia was hurt because of him, Stiles would never be able to deal with that. He knew how deeply Stiles’ emotions ran when it came to the people he cared about the most, and he knew Lydia Martin was on that list.   
  
Derek hesitated, “Maybe you should let Lydia talk to Peter.” He held up a hand, “I know what you’re going to say. But she needs to know she can do this on her own and you’ve got a lot to do. You’re an alpha Scott, and in order to take care of your pack you need to take care of yourself. You still haven’t even tapped into the strength that really makes you an alpha. That’s important. It’s not just the color of your eyes that change when you become an alpha.” He explained quietly leaning forward now so if people walked by they didn’t hear them talking.   
  
“Lydia needs to get comfortable with what she is and so do you. And you’re all going to have to talk to Isaac and Allison,” Derek commented keeping his tone light and free of judgment. “He’s still part of your pack and being on the outside of it, despite that not being intentional is probably hurting him more than he wants to admit.” Derek was silent for a minute clasping his hands together as his arms rested on his knees.   
  
“Isaac has always been loyal to you,” he said quietly, “Betrayal hurts, but I think the distinction is important. Isaac didn’t choose the other side Scott, he chose Allison. He loves her. And if I remember correctly despite my better judgment you yourself have made the same choice.” Derek told him wisely.   
  
For a moment Scott looked at Derek like he’d actually lost his mind. “I don’t trust Peter with Lydia. I don’t trust Peter with _you_ ,” he said honestly. But the rest of what he said made sense, and he knew Derek was right. He blew out a breath, looking down at Lydia’s sleeping face and taking a long drink of his rapidly-cooling coffee. But Scott had a pack, and he was far from the only one of the pack who was capable of dealing with Peter Hale.   
  
“I know,” he said quietly, chest tightening at the thought of Isaac. “It’s just...hard to see past the fact that Isaac was ready to kill Stiles. That any of them were. I mean that’s not...it wasn’t _Stiles_.” He wasn’t sure that Derek understood the depth of his relationship with Stiles. Derek didn’t know all of the times that Stiles had literally saved Scott’s life, from finding and retrieving his lost inhaler when he was having an asthma attack to the moment that Stiles literally stepped into a puddle of gasoline, willing to die with Scott on the chance that Scott might not accidentally (or intentionally) kill them both.   
  
Pain flickered over his features as he thought of his best friend laying in ICU, beaten all to hell at that very moment -- over something that he’d had zero control over to begin with.   
  
“I know,” Derek said his voice strained. “Scott anyone who knows you and Stiles even if they haven’t known you both for as long as I have, they know how close you are. How much you mean to each other.” He paused trying to figure out how to convey what he wanted to say in the right way. “I’ve spent three years observing your actions and I can honestly say when I was your age if I had someone like Stiles in my life...maybe I wouldn't have turned out the way I did.” He told him quietly.   
  
“He grounds you, he holds the group together, which is evident by how fractured it is right now. But sometimes,” Derek inhaled deeply, “Sometimes when you’re a leader you need to look at the whole picture. You need to take a step back and see things from every angle. And when you do that sometimes you see things you don’t like.” Derek scratched the back of his neck.   
  
“They had the logical plan Scott. We both know it. I don’t regret helping save Stiles because I think he’s worth being saved. This wasn’t his fault and after everything he’s done to help you, to keep your secret, to be there...he deserved to have us fight for him.” Derek took a sip of his coffee to moisten his throat; he wasn’t used to talking so much.   
  
“He tried to kill Isaac and yet Isaac didn’t go after him. Only when Allison got hurt did he make the leap to killing Stiles. When someone you love is hurt...well we don’t always think clearly all we do is feel and by nature wolves are violent and protective.” He paused resting his coffee on his knee.   
  
“We safeguard what we perceive as ours. It’s a basic instinct. Whether or not you can forgive Isaac or Allison right away, you should show Lydia and Stiles that you haven’t closed them out. People will follow your lead; you just have to be willing to take the first step.”   
  
Scott gazed at Derek as he spoke, a very faint smile touching his mouth. In the last three years, he’d spent a lot of time being upset with, or angry at Derek for various things he’d done. Various choices he’d made. But in the last year, something in the older wolf had begun to change. He wasn’t the same guy he’d met so long ago. Not by a long shot. Derek had changed a lot, more than any of them probably.   
  
Before he had a chance to respond to anything that Derek had said, though, Scott felt a familiar presence approaching and looked over to see his mom, hair tied back in a ponytail as she moved toward them, her expression filled with worry. He very carefully shifted Lydia off his shoulder and rose to his feet. “Mom?”   
  
Melissa was exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Seeing Stiles in ICU again so soon and in such bad shape made her heart clench. Seeing the worry on her son’s face, the pain. It was all starting to get to be a little too much and just when they thought things were heading in the right direction.   
  
Melissa cleared her throat, “I know you’ve been wanting to see Stiles, I thought I’d take you now.” She said as she reached out and squeezed his shoulder, “I think your presence might help a bit.” She said not fully able to hide the moisture in her eyes.   
  
Wordlessly, he reached out and wound his arms around her waist, hugging her as tightly as he dared. “He’s gonna be okay,” Scott said quietly. At least he hoped so. This was going to be a rough road ahead for all of them, but Derek was right. He needed to step up and be a leader. To show the rest of the pack they needed to come together and be a team again.   
  
When the hug ended, Scott reached out and squeezed Derek’s shoulder lightly before following his mom into the ICU, grimacing at the various smells that assaulted his nose. Antiseptics, various medications being administered via IV bags, _blood._ Even death.   
  
They came to the double doors and Melissa reached into her pocket and pulled out a keycard sliding it through the reader and then pushing open the door. “I’ll be out here making sure no one goes in. The sheriff will be by in the morning...well later in the morning when my shift ends.” Melissa pressed her lips together. “I love you,” she said pressing a kiss to the side of Scott’s head before stepping back knowing Scott needed some time with Stiles.   
  
“I love you too, Mom,” he whispered, watching as she headed away again. He held his breath, chest tightening at the sight of Stiles’ motionless body as he lay unconscious once more. He moved closer, dragging a chair right to his friend’s bedside and reaching out, laying his hands on Stiles’ arm.   
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner,” he murmured as his eyes traveling over Stiles body. His chest tightened. He pressed down a little, putting pressure on Stiles arms before taking a deep breath and letting his body pull some of the pain from Stiles into himself.   
  
Scott sucked in a sharp breath, black veins crawling up his arm and into his skin as pain hit him. He clenched his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut as his heartbeat sped up. He stayed like that for a few minutes before the pain building in his chest became too much.   
  
He released Stiles hand and gripped the arms of the chair briefly to steady himself. Maybe he’d taken a little more than he should have, but this was Stiles. He’d been through enough. “It took me longer than I would have liked to get there,” he admitted, “But Derek was there...Derek’s always there,” he commented with a short laugh, though the sound was more of choked noise than anything else. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop this,” he said leaned forward and shaking his head. “I know you probably have no idea why Ethan attacked you and that’s my fault too...we just...we didn’t want to cause you anymore pain,” Scott admitted.   
  
“Stiles man, you gotta wake up, please.” He whispered, his chest tight, eyes burning. “We need you.”   
  
Stiles was so used to the darkness these days that it was troublesome. But even as he swam in the dark, stillness of his mind, he could feel his physical pain receding at a rate that was much too fast to be normal. Much too fast to be any kind of drugs. Drugs only did so much to kill the pain. Maybe they took the edge off, but that was about it. No, this was something else. His eyebrows furrowed as he began to hear a voice that was distant but also familiar. He tried to swim through the fogginess in his brain -- _that_ was definitely drugs in action.   
  
He recognized that voice. He’d known it for most of his life. _Scott._ A soft sigh escaped him and he struggled as hard as he could to reach the surface, catching sight of a little sliver of light as his eyes began to open slowly.   
  
“Scott,” he murmured, rolling his head toward the direction of the voice.   
  
Scott’s head jerked up at the sound of Stiles voice and he grinned, relief filling him. “You’re awake,” he said stating the obvious, “Man you’ve gotta stop ending up in the hospital you’re going to give us all heart attacks,” he joked before concern filled his face. “How are you feeling?” Stiles was pretty bruised up and his left eye was swollen shut. He had one cracked rib and two bruised ribs. His shoulder had been dislocated and he was pretty sure there were some very faint claw wounds on his stomach. The doctors had thought there was some internal bleeding, but luckily they’d been wrong.   
  
Stiles tried to smile, but it hurt too much and came off more as a grimace than anything. He could also only partially see Scott because his left eye wouldn’t open at all. “Sorry,” he mumbled, meaning it. His voice was groggy. “Dis...oriented.” It took him a moment to get the word out because it took him a moment to remember how it was supposed to sound. “‘ -- at happend?”   
  
Scott winced, “Ethan happened,” he said quietly, “But you don’t have to worry. He’s not going to come after you again...we talked, it’s going to be okay.” He said quietly as he squeezed his friend’s hand. Scott wished Stiles didn’t have to go through this, he wished he could make the last month disappear, but life didn’t work that way. “How’s the pain?” He asked.   
  
Ethan. Right. He shut his good eye and exhaled as he remembered being dragged through the woods to the place where he’d murdered Ethan’s brother. His fingers curled around Scott’s involuntarily in return. “Better,” he murmured. “You did your...wolfy magic thing, right?” He hated that Scott’s wolfy magic thing hurt him. He supposed it was one of those things that could be considered a gift and a curse.   
  
Scott nodded, “I did, I’m glad it helped.” He was silent for a minute, “You must have a ton of questions,” he said before hesitating as he studied his friend, “Or maybe you don’t.” He let his voice trail off.   
  
“Thanks,” he said quietly, exhaling in a long breath at Scott’s comment. “No. Not really.” Lydia already knew that he remembered everything. He wasn’t going to keep it from his best friend, either. Not when that would put undue stress on her. “I remember everything, Scott.” His voice was tired. “I have since the night Lydia woke up.”   
  
Scott swallowed hard, “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked quietly, “We could have helped...we could have talked,” he said stressing the words wanting Stiles to know that he didn’t blame him for anything. It wasn’t his fault the Nogitsune took him over. He knew Stiles blamed himself and he wished he could help fend off that guilt for his friend.   
  
Tears stung Stiles’ eyes at the emotion in his best friend’s voice. He’d never kept things from Scott before. He told Scott _everything_. But that was before he’d gone on a murderous, destructive rampage. “I just...I thought it’d be easier if I could just make believe that everything was okay again. I want everything to be okay again, and I don’t think…” His voice was strained. _I don’t think it’s going to be._   
  
Scott was silent for a minute. He nodded understanding what his friend wanted. “Stiles...I know it feels that way and maybe,” he took a breath, “maybe things won’t be the same again. But that doesn’t mean they can’t get better. I know no matter how many times I tell you this isn’t your fault, you’re going to blame yourself because that’s just who you are.” He said.   
  
“You’re such a good person,” Scott paused, “That you can’t help but feel everyone else’s pain. No one blames you Stiles...not even really Ethan. He was hurting and I’m not defending him, hell he’s lucky I have some self-restraint.” Scott wanted to tear into him when he saw what he did to Stiles, but he knew that wouldn’t be the right thing to do.   
  
“We’re going to get through this. You’ve got our parents, me, Lydia, Derek, and everyone else.” He said matter-of-factly.   
  
Stiles didn’t really understand why Scott had such unwavering faith in him after everything. Except that Scott, in general, was the one who was the good person. He was the one who stayed optimistic about things. Stiles was just generally sarcastic about things. But maybe Scott’s sense of hope was something that he needed to lean on right then. Maybe he just needed to believe that his best friend was right. That things could get better. It was just hard to believe it when the memories of all things he’d done while possessed were at the forefront of his mind constantly.   
  
“I don’t blame him either,” he admitted. “I’m glad you didn’t…” He shrugged a shoulder, gasping as pain shot through him unexpectedly. Okay, that sucked. His grip around Scott’s hand tightened for a second involuntarily.   
  
When the pain faded enough that he didn’t want to scream, he managed to open his good eye to peer at Scott, the ghost of a smirk on his face. “Our parents? Did they get married while I was passed out? Because if so we should get bunk beds.” It was the first actual joke he’d cracked since before everything had started so long ago.   
  
Scott’s heart warmed, “Nah, I’m thinking June wedding, mom likes the summer.” He said as he scratched the back of his head with his free hand. “I’m down with bunkbeds, don’t know how Lydia is going to feel about that,” he joked. “I call top bunk. I like to look out the window in my sleep and howl,” He joked with an easy grin. The expression felt weird though, probably because it had been so long since a genuine smile graced his lips.   
  
“Oh good. I really didn’t want to miss out.” He couldn’t help but smile when Scott did. He just had one of those smiles that was infectious. And it had been a long time since he’d seen him with a real smile. “We’ll have to make sure they’re wide bunk beds for slumber parties. Pack parties. Whatever.” He wanted to shrug again, but after the pain from last time he wasn’t about to. “Okay how do you even look out your window _while_ you’re asleep, dude?”   
  
Scott looked at Stiles with a completely serious face. “I’m a true alpha...you have no idea what I can do.” He held the expression for a total of five second before a grin broke out on his face and he chuckled. “Before I go to sleep?” He suggested with a shrug, “I dunno. But I like windows.” He said with a smile. “Mom’s gonna be really happy you’re awake. She was worried. I’m starting to think she loves you more than me,” he joked with a playful pout.   
  
Stiles smiled, shaking his head slightly in amusement. “You can have the top bunk,” he decided, heart clenching a little at the mention of Scott’s mom. “My dad? Is he here too? God he has to be so freaked out.” Stiles had put him through so much lately, the idea that he’d added more stress now made his stomach turn a little. But at Scott’s comment about his mom, he shook his head. “It’s just that the squeaky wheel gets the grease. But I don’t advise trying things my way. Not really a good time.”   
  
Scott snorted, “Did you just call yourself a squeaky wheel?” He smirked, “Dude...that’s gonna be your new nickname.” He said lightly before catching Stiles’ gaze. “Your dad is going to be here in a little bit. It’s like close to one thirty in the morning. There’s only a few of us here right now, there will be more at a decent hour. Don’t worry, you’re loved.” He said with a grin as he patted him gently on the arm.   
  
“It’s not exactly an inaccurate description these days.” He rolled his good eye, relaxing a little at Scott’s reassurance. Stiles looked back at Scott for a moment. “You’re tired, Scottie. You need some sleep.”   
  
Scott shook his head, “I don’t want to. I’m not that tired,” he reassured his friend. “But I should probably tell mom you’re awake. I’ll let Lydia know when she wakes up too.” He commented while standing.   
  
Stiles looked up at his friend. “Thanks for being here.” His voice was quiet. For _always_ being here, he thought.   
  
Scott squeezed his arm gently, “You couldn’t get me to leave if you tried,” he joked. “I’ll be right back.” He said before turning to go and find his mother.   
  
Stiles watched him go, chest tightening a little once again. He’d always been able to count on Scott. The guy was like an unshakable force. At the end of the day, Scott was his rock. His constant. He felt sleep tugging at him once more, but he did his best to resist the urge to close his eyes. He wanted to see Melissa McCall before he passed out again. He wanted to see his _dad._   
  
Melissa made her way into the room minutes later, but Scott stayed outside to give her some time and to call Stiles’ dad with an update. She walked quickly over to the bed a smile on her face, “Hey sweetie,” she said as she sat carefully on the edge of Stiles’ bed. “How are you feeling?” Melissa reached out and brushed a hand against Stiles face careful not to touch his bad eye.   
  
Stiles leaned into her touch instinctively, smiling very faintly. “I’m okay. Scott...took a lot of it.” He looked up at her. “Sorry I keep ending up here.”   
  
Melissa gave him a stern look, “Mm, you keep this up and I’m going to make you live in one of those plastic bubbles like the bubble boy,” she commented lightly as she ran her hand through his hair. “We’re not going to be able to bring you home for a little while.” She said softly her chest tightening. She didn’t like leaving Stiles in the hospital overnight all alone. Melissa knew Scott would stay and probably Lydia too, maybe even Derek, but these kids couldn’t keep living in the hospital.   
  
“Yeah I kinda...figured,” he admitted. Considering the amount of pain he was in and the amount of bandages and machines that he was hooked up to, he doubted home would come for at least a few days. “Maybe the bubble thing wouldn’t be such a bad plan.” He closed his good eye as she stroked his hair gently.   
  
“That’s not funny,” Melissa commented even though it had been her idea to begin with. “I’m going to do my best to get you in a regular room so Scott and Lydia can visit. I had to sneak him in.” She said with a small smile, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” She said softly keeping her voice steady despite the pain in her chest. “It’s early, your dad probably won’t be able to get here for another hour or so, so I want you to rest. Alright?”   
  
“My sense of humor might be a little off lately.” He heard the pain in her voice even though he could also tell she was trying to suppress it, and he reached up, wincing a little and putting a hand on her arm. “Thanks. For everything you do.” His voice was almost inaudible. He opened his eye to look at her again. “Me and Scott...and my dad...we’d all be kinda lost without you.”   
  
Melissa had to swallow heavily to clear her throat of the lump that formed there. Moisture tickled the corner of her eyes as she placed her hand over his. “You’re all my boys.” She said softly. Melissa bent down and pressed a kiss against Stiles forehead, “I love you, get some rest.” She said as she stood, her chest tight hating that someone as vibrant, loyal and good as Stiles had to deal with this.   
  
A single tear trickled down his cheek at her words. “Love you too,” he whispered, closing his eye once more as she kissed his forehead. “I’ll try.” He had a feeling sleep actually wasn’t going to be hard because of all the drugs that were flowing through his system at the moment. He just hoped the sleep was devoid of any dreams.   


______

  
  
Derek sat in the uncomfortable chair his legs stretched out as far as they could go, his forearms resting on the wooden arms of the chair as he flipped through a magazine. It was just about three in the afternoon and Scott had, had to forcibly remove Lydia from the hospital room telling the poor girl she needed to go home with him for a bit, shower and get herself together.   
  
Derek was pretty sure if looks were lethal the one Lydia gave Scott would have killed him twice over. His lip turned up at the corner as he flipped the page again, the heat of Stiles’ gaze directed at him making his sigh. “Why are we staring?” He asked calmly as he once again flipped a magazine page.   
  
“Because you’ve been reading the same magazine for over an hour.” Stiles shifted in bed a little, wishing he could arch his eyebrows without pain, but he’d tried to do that a couple of times and pain had literally flashed behind his eyes at the effort. Not doing that one again anytime soon. Hopefully. It was kind of instinctive.   
  
Derek’s gaze shifted from the magazine to Stiles. He blinked and then closed the magazine and tossed it aside, wincing when the cover came in to view. Cosmopolitan. It was Lydia’s magazine. He had forgotten a book. “Sorry,” he grumbled as he shifted so he was sitting up in the chair. “How are you feeling? Need a little dose of pain relief?” He inquired.   
  
Stiles couldn’t help but smirk at the cover of the magazine; a short chuckle escaped him and fuck that hurt. He pressed a hand to his ribcage even though he laughed again because the image of _Derek Hale_ reading _Cosmopolitan_ was the single most hilarious thing he’d seen in a long, long time.   
  
He shook his head slightly, not moving it too fast because he didn’t want to make himself dizzy from the concussion he was sporting thanks to the tree he’d slammed into. Or maybe Ethan’s fist. Whichever. “I’m okay.”   
  
Derek’s brows furrowed. “Yes, you look fine.” He commented catching the smile on Stiles’ face. “There was nothing else to read.” He defended himself. “Lydia keeps bringing these stupid 10 ways to drive him crazy crap,” he huffed and shook his head. “This is going to be one of those things we don’t talk about outside of this room.” Derek said pointedly as he leaned forward. “It’s not my fault your girlfriend has terrible taste in magazines.”   
  
Stiles snorted, holding back another laugh. “And uh -- you’re reading that because…? Because if you’re looking, there’s this guy at school named Danny that I’m sure would love to go out with you. Actually you met him once, Miguel.” His own comment made him laugh again and it hurt but he couldn’t stop, a couple tears rolling down his face. “And she’s not my girlfriend, for the record. Just a good friend.” A very good friend.   
  
Derek’s eyes turned to slits. “Ha-ha,” He sighed and rolled his eyes, “I was curious...as to what women think drives men crazy.” Apparently he didn’t know women as well as he thought so a little research never hurt. “And while I seem to not have the best taste in women, I don’t think I’m ready to switch teams just yet,” he quipped.   
  
Derek rested his arms against his chest as he watched Stiles and his lip quirked at the corner, a hint of mischief filling his dark gaze. “Does she know that?” He inquired casually.   
  
Stiles rolled his eye at the man’s question, though. “I’m pretty sure she’s aware that we’re platonic friends, yes.” She’d been the one to initially draw that line, after all. And Stiles wasn’t going to press the issue. Especially not now. Probably not ever. He loved Lydia with his whole heart, but he’d accepted long ago that she loved him only as a friend. He was at peace with it.   
  
He contemplated the rest of Derek’s sentence and sent him a thoughtful look. Hell maybe Stiles should be reading the same article. Though he wasn’t sure he trusted any magazines with crap like _The Orgasm Whisperer_ as a headline. That made him laugh too as he caught sight of it. He blew out a breath, trying to calm the laughter so his ribs wouldn’t actually end up puncturing his lung or ripping out of his stomach or something.   
  
“I have a simple solution to that problem,” he informed Derek. “Before you go out with any woman, I’ll meet her and tell you if she’s evil or not.” He smirked a little, knowing he was relatively safe from Derek’s penchant for smacking him because he was injured and in the hospital. Although Derek hadn’t really been violent toward him in awhile. Kind of weird, really.   
  
Derek arched an eyebrow, “You want to meet my dates?” He said amused as he tapped his finger against his knee, “You realize you’re accumulating a lot of physical abuse for when you’re no longer lying in a hospital bed correct?” He asked not giving Stiles a chance to answer before he leaned forward changing the subject once again.   
  
“Hm, that’s interesting about Lydia. I just assumed because there were stars next to some of the ways to drive guys crazy and I figured well...it was for when you got better.” He said with a smirk. “Guess not, too bad.” he said sympathetically as he leaned back keeping his laughter inside. Lydia’s feelings were more than clear though Derek did wonder if she knew how she felt about Stiles.   
  
“Hey I happen to be a great judge of character when it comes to people who are evil,” he informed Derek matter-of-factly. “I called it on Matt and I called it on Jackson, and I called it on that entire stupid alpha pack.” Though there hadn’t really been question that they’d been evil anyway.   
  
At that, he jerked his head over to stare at Derek with wide eyes. “Yeah, well. What’s the date on the magazine?” he questioned, wondering if Lydia had found someone else she was interested in.   
  
Derek leaned back in his seat ignoring his words about evil people. “Ms. McCall gave it to her yesterday, so I’m going to assume it’s recent.” He commented, “And as far as I know Lydia hasn’t been spending her time with anyone outside of us and Scott.” He explained though Stiles had to know that, the girl practically lived at the hospital.   
  
“It’s not for me. She probably just...you know, to keep them in mind for the future.” His chest tightened a little and he looked away from Derek, lifting his hand to his mouth and chewing on his thumbnail. He was quiet for a moment. “How’s Cora?” he asked suddenly.   
  
Derek blinked at the quick change in subject. “She’s good. Actually,” he paused and scratched the back of his neck, “She’s heading back to town for a bit. I had been planning on mentioning it to Scott, but I haven’t gotten the chance yet.” He explained. “I uh, told her what’s been going on and she was worried about you.” He said his tone slightly baffled, not because she was worried, but because he hadn’t realized that Stiles and his sister had gotten close enough while she was in town to warrant her worrying.   
  
Stiles was surprised by the news, too. “She was?” He’d always been under the impression that Cora was just putting up with him. That she tolerated his presence because Scott would have stopped her from killing him instead. He knew he’d gotten on her nerves. But they had spent quite a bit of time together when they’d been thrown together a few times. “It’ll be good to see her again.” And it would be good for Derek to have her around, too.   
  
“In a platonic way,” Derek told him. “It will be good to see her again in a platonic way.” He added as he studied the teenager in front of him. “Is there anything you need to tell me Stiles?” He sniffed the air and arched an eyebrow. He was mostly kidding...unless there was something not to be kidding about.   
  
Stiles blinked in surprise. “Yes, in a platonic way,” he echoed, turning his head to look at Derek, eye open a little wider than before. “Not...like you’re thinking. Jesus, Derek,” he mumbled. The look that Derek gave him wasn’t entirely comforting. “We kind of bonded over stuff as _friends_ ,” he emphasized. “Also I kind of had to give her CPR once. Also in a purely platonic way.”   
  
Derek arched an eyebrow, “Mm,” he leaned back in his seat. “You’re not a terrible friend to have.” He said calmly. “Friend.” he repeated pointedly. “Not that I think Cora is interested. I think you might be too nice for my baby sister.” He winced and then shook his head. “She’s got a temper...though I suppose that runs in the family.” He said with sigh.   
  
Stiles snorted at the almost compliment. “Good to know you think so,” he said wryly. Truthfully he didn’t really know how to actually be friends with anyone except for Scott really. And Lydia. That was literally the only two people who’d ever actually considered him a friend. “Ya think? She did once threaten to punch me in the face and to rip out Lydia’s tongue.”   
  
Derek chuckled, that was definitely his sister. “She wasn’t Lydia’s biggest fan,” he commented. “Neither was I.” He admitted with a shrug. “Things change.”   
  
“Yeah, you’re a lot less…” He waved his hand in Derek’s general direction. “Terrifying than you used to be. Which I mean as a compliment so don’t take that the wrong way.”   
  
Derek’s lip twitched, “Well, I like to think I’m still terrifying,” he said with a raised eyebrow, “the terrifying is just directed at the right people now.” He told the teenager. “It was time.” He said quietly.   
  
Stiles was silent for a moment, watching him intently and then nodding. “Good. We’re all on the same side.” He paused. “You know, when one of us isn’t possessed by an evil fox.”   
  
Derek smirked. “Yes, please never do that again. I’m certain I’ve lost at least twenty percent of my hearing because of Lydia and her,” he paused glancing around the room and near the hallway, “Banshee...super screams right next to my ear drums.” He shook his head. “We prefer you minus the fox...just saying.” He said meeting Stiles gaze and giving him half a smile so he’d know he was only kidding.   
  
Stiles managed a faint, barely there smile, nodding. “Got it. No more foxes.” He hoped. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t survive another possession. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to. He hadn’t even wanted to survive it this time. He held his breath as he heard quiet, unsure footsteps approaching the door and he knew that the two people he’d been waiting on to arrive finally had. He glanced at Derek, knowing he was going to be surprised. “It’s okay.”   
  
Derek had tensed in his chair and glanced from the door where he heard their footsteps in the hall over to Stiles. He tilted his head to the side, “Did you call them?” How had he missed who Stiles was on the phone with earlier? He hadn’t even realized it.   
  
“Yeah,” he admitted quietly, heart beating a little faster than before. He needed to do this. He _had_ to do this. For Scott, and for Lydia, and for _everyone_. No matter how much he dreaded what their reactions might be. He’d deal with it.   
  
Derek heard Stiles heartbeat pick up speed and he stood up. Derek watched him for a minute. “You’ll be fine.” He said confidently he stepped forward pausing at the foot of the bed, “You made the right choice,” he said quietly. “It’s going to be hard, but facing them is the first step to healing,” and he wasn’t talking physically. “You can do it.” Derek hesitated, “Also, this is going to sound strange, but try to slow your heartbeat down. If you get too worked up I guarantee you’ll be interrupted before you want to be.” Lydia tended to get nervous when she felt Stiles getting nervous and no doubt she would rush Scott over to the hospital if that happened.   
  
Stiles forced himself to take a deep breath and Derek’s reassurance, which for some reason actually did make him feel a little better. Strange. Things really had changed, apparently. The fact that Derek was reassuring him in the first place and the fact that it worked to a degree. He blinked at his next comment though. “Uh, okay? How exactly do I do that?” Right now he was just trying not to want to throw up. And what did he mean about being interrupted?   
  
Derek could see the confusion on Stiles’ face and he paused, “When I get nervous and don’t give me that look, everyone gets nervous, I think of something that calms me down, something that grounds me.” He explained. “Something that makes you feel calm.” Derek added before pointing to the door. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.” He told Stiles right as he saw Isaac and Allison pause in front of the doorway.   
  
Stiles frowned a little, cocking his head as he watched Derek head for the door. Something that grounded him. His mind immediately flashed to an image of his best friend. Of his dad. Scott’s mom. Lydia. He relaxed a little, looking toward the door. “Hey guys,” he said tentatively. He swallowed hard. “Come in.”   
  
Isaac squeezed Allison’s hand gently and tugged her into the room. He had been surprised when Allison got a call from Stiles asking them to come to the hospital. It had been just over a month since the Nogitsune possessed Stiles and they hadn’t really seen him since he’d been possessed, not other than a glimpse here or there. So having Stiles seek them out was a bit nerve wracking.   
  
Isaac sucked in a breath as they moved into the room. Ethan had done a number on him. “Wow...that looks like it hurts,” he said before Allison elbowed him slightly in the side. He grunted, “Sorry, I mean hi.” He said as he shifted on his feet.   
  
Stiles managed a faint smile at Isaac’s lack of tact. He’d actually found himself kind of missing it. He’d missed both of them. The sting of tears in his eyes surprised him and he blinked rapidly, motioning them to the chairs. “Hi,” he said quietly, shifting in the bed and elevating the top portion of the bed with the button on the railing. He winced a little, but let out a breath, gazing at them.   
  
Allison sat down and Isaac was quick to follow. She shifted forward so she was sitting on the edge of the seat. “I’m really glad you wanted to see us.” She told him with a hesitant smile. “We tried to visit the last time you were here, but Derek said you weren’t up for visitors.” Allison couldn’t believe how fragile Stiles looked.   
  
The last few weeks had been pretty terrible and she’d been driving her dad and Isaac crazy wondering if Scott and Lydia would ever forgive them for what happened. She’d missed them desperately. “How are you feeling?” She asked as Isaac shifted his hand to her back.   
  
“We heard you’re probably going to be getting out in a couple of days,” Isaac said with a crooked smile, “That’s good.”   
  
They were being so...laid back about all of this that it almost hurt. Like nothing had even happened at all. But things had happened. A lot of things. Bad things. He didn’t understand them at all. “I uh -- I was just…” He looked down at his hands, his fingers picking at the blanket that covered his legs. “I wasn’t ready to face you guys,” he admitted, pained expression.   
  
Isaac glanced at Allison and she bit her lower lip. “Stiles...We don’t blame you for what happened,” she said softly resting her hands in her lap. “I’m okay now and we know _you_ would never hurt us.” She said with conviction.   
  
Isaac nodded, “Allison is right and,” he paused, “I’m sorry I tried to kill you.” Allison winced at the way he just came out and said it. “That thing inside of you...it hurt Allison and I couldn’t think straight.” He told him honestly. “All I saw was the girl I cared about bleeding out on the ground...That’s a pretty hard thing to see.” He scratched the back of his neck feeling uncomfortable with the conversation, but Allison squeezed his hand gently letting him know she was there.   
  
“No,” Stiles agreed quietly. He never wanted to hurt either of them. He shifted his attention to Isaac when he spoke, and Stiles shook his head. “Don’t,” he said softly. “You don’t owe me any apologies. I don’t blame you. I don’t blame anyone.” His chest tightened as he looked between them, guilt tugging at him. “That night at your place.” His gaze rested on Allison. “I convinced it to go there.” He hadn’t told anyone that. Not Lydia, not Scott. “Because I was hoping that maybe…” He shut his eyes. “I didn’t want either of you to get hurt but I thought you and your dad were my best chance.”   
  
Allison frowned, “I don’t understand, best chance for-” her words abruptly cut off and her face paled slightly as she glanced at Stiles. Her throat felt unusually dry when she finally spoke. “You wanted us to kill you,” she said quietly, her hand gripping the arm of the chair tightly to keep it from shaking. Now Allison only felt worse.   
  
In the grips of being taken over by the Nogitsune, Stiles convinced it to seek out hunters hoping they’d end his life so he wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes and she felt Isaac’s hand at her back. He always knew when she needed the extra support. “I’m sorry you had to go through that...I’m sorry we weren’t strong enough to see how hard you were fighting.” She whispered brushing away a tear before it could fall.   
  
Isaac hated seeing Allison cry. It always broke something inside of him. He rubbed her back. “We really are glad you’re okay.” It was the truth. Isaac didn’t hold a grudge against Stiles, but at the same time he couldn’t get the picture of Stiles pulling Aiden’s heart out of his chest out of his head. It would most likely be embedded there forever.   
  
Stiles dropped his gaze, nodding slightly as she put it together. It was a terrible thing; really, hoping that someone you considered a friend would be willing to kill you. But it was more terrible to run around killing other people. Causing so much damage he could never undo. His chest hurt from the pained look on Allison’s face. “It isn’t your fault, Allison,” he murmured. He wondered if she knew that he’d texted her father when he’d temporarily regained control. By the look on her face now, Stiles assumed not.   
  
“Thanks,” he told Isaac quietly. He wouldn’t ever be rid of the mental image of killing Aidan, either. And the fact that he’d added to Isaac’s already traumatized life made him feel that much worse about everything.   
  
Allison reached out and rested a hand on Stiles arm, “I’m really glad you reached out to us,” she told him, “Things have been so strained between everyone,” she admitted, “And we really wanted to talk to Scott and Lydia, but,” she paused.   
  
“But they haven’t really wanted to talk to us, so we’ve respected that.” Isaac added knowing Allison probably wouldn’t.   
  
Stiles winced a little. “I know they have, and I know that’s...I should have just…” He motioned between them. “I’ll talk to them. It’s gonna be okay. Neither of you is to blame for anything and I know that. They know it too; they just...don’t wanna admit it to themselves.”   
  
Allison smiled softly, “We shouldn’t have gone against the pack...the whole purpose of it is to stick together and protect each other...and then at the first sign of trouble,” her voice trailed off again. She was upset. She felt guilty and really all she wanted to do was talk to Scott and hug Lydia. Allison sighed and shook herself from her thoughts. “Sorry,” she said again even though he’d told her not to apologize. Allison couldn’t help it.   
  
“It wasn’t exactly a normal situation. I was dangerous,” Stiles whispered, not looking at either of them. “I was really dangerous. I almost killed both of you, and I actually did…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Just thinking them still made him feel nauseous. He shut his eyes, visualizing Scott again. Strong, steady Scott who always tried his hardest to do the right thing. Who was always there for him. His heart beat evened out again.   
  
Isaac could see the tension on Allison’s face and he decided it was time for a subject change. “School’s been weird without you...Lydia too.” He commented.   
  
Eventually Stiles looked up at Isaac again. “I think it uh -- might be a bit before I’m back this time. Ms. McCall kind of indicated that I was gonna be here for awhile and I doubt they’ll spring me from here just to send me right back to school.” He chewed his lower lip, uncharacteristically more self-conscious than usual.   
  
Allison nodded, “We can get your assignments for you if you want.” She offered needing to do something to help. “And drop them off, it wouldn’t be a problem, unless you’ve got someone else doing that already,” she said.   
  
“No, that’d be great, actually. I wasn’t even completely caught up on the last round,” he admitted. He was pretty sure that Scott would’ve grabbed all his assignments but he understood they wanted to help. Wanted something to do. “And just saying, if anyone wanted to do my AP calc assignments, I would not be miffed at all,” he joked.   
  
Isaac just shook his head, “If you want a passing grade that leaves me out,” he said as he leaned back in the chair.   
  
Allison hit him gently in the stomach with the back of her hand, “Yeah...You might want Lydia to handle the AP calc,” she said with a smile. “Math’s not exactly my strong suit,” she admitted sheepishly knowing he was only joking, but still.   
  
Stiles grinned a little at Isaac’s comment. “Yeah it’s not really my favorite either.” He shrugged with his good shoulder. He was quiet for a moment. “You guys wanna...hang around for awhile?” he asked uncertainly. “My dad brought a deck of UNO cards.” He held his breath, wanting them to stay so that when Scott and Lydia got back they would see the three of them interacting and hopefully understand that Stiles didn’t have anything against either of them. “We can probably pull Derek in, too.” He glanced toward the door.   
  
“Not gonna happen,” Derek’s voice sounded from outside the door.   
  
Isaac grinned, “He’s like a guard dog,” he glanced over at the door and even though he couldn’t see him he knew Derek was there.   
  
Allison smiled, “We can stay as long as you’re sure you don’t mind. We don’t want to keep you from resting.”   
  
“Don’t be such a Sourwolf,” Stiles called back before turning his focus to Isaac and Allison. “I don’t mind. I slept like, most of the day. And all night last night. They have really effective drugs around this place.” And if he didn’t know better, he’d assume that they were giving him extra thanks to Melissa McCall.   
  
Isaac released Allison’s hand and stood, “I’ll get the cards.” he said a smile in his voice as Derek begrudgingly came back into the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles was restless. Of course, 9 out of 10 times, Stiles was always restless, but he’d been in the hospital for almost a week and he was tired of cable television, tired of trying to read with one good eye, though his other at least was open again, even if it still hurt, tired of UNO, tired of sleeping thanks to extra-heavy drugs even though he knew his body needed all the rest it was getting, and thankfully between said heavy drugs and Scott and Lydia almost always being there when he slept, he wasn’t dreaming. But the more time that passed the more restless he felt. He could get up and walk around for short periods of time, but not long because he was just too tired. And movement still hurt.

He had managed to talk Scott into wheeling his ass outside into the garden area for awhile just so he could get some fresh air, by reminding him that fresh air did _everyone_ good. And it had helped a little. It had killed about twenty minutes of time.

But he was restless for new reasons now and they had him on edge, chewing anxiously on his thumbnail as he waited for Scott and Lydia to get back from school that day. He’d texted with them both off and on throughout the day with the new phone his dad had gotten him since he didn’t know where his old one was, reassuring them he was fine, everything was fine, they didn’t need to worry. Derek had gone to get some coffee, though he’d hesitated to leave Stiles alone, to which Stiles had rolled his eyes and told him to take a break from his babysitting job. His tone hadn’t been harsh. He appreciated Derek’s company. All new levels of weird.

He knew his dad would be by that evening, and that Melissa was planning to stick around after her shift. He was just afraid of how things were going to turn out at the end of the night. He’d been developing a theory over the last week, because he hadn’t really had much else to do but sit around and think, and he was tired of waiting to see if maybe, just maybe, he was right.

Lydia’s heels clicked loudly against the hospital hallway as she walked towards Stiles’ room, Scott beside her. Her hand was gripping the strap of her bag that held her books and two of Stiles’. She was lost in her own thoughts. Lydia was discontent. There was no other word to describe the jumble of emotions her life had become.

She was tired, physically, emotionally, she just felt drained. It had been a long time since she felt so insecure and vexatious in her own skin. Her mother was finally back in town and had given her an earful the other night for missing so much school and never being home. They got into it pretty good and the conversation had ended with her mother telling her she got a full-time teaching position in San Diego and she was planning on taking it. But since Lydia was in her junior year at Beacon hills she would keep the house for Lydia to stay in until graduation. _Gee, thanks mom, don’t do me any favors_.

Lydia knew her mother loved her; her parents just weren’t very good at showing it unless there was some kind of disaster. But she hadn’t even discussed it with her. Lydia straightened even more her back going rigid as her grip tightened on her bag. On top of that she’d slept terrible last night in her own bed. She had missed Stiles’ presence, she was anxious and worried and just full out enamored with the ceiling tiles. It was ridiculous. But Ms. McCall and the Sheriff had sent her and Scott home for the night saying they needed to get some real rest and then Scott had practically dragged her to school that morning being the voice of reason and telling her she couldn’t keep missing classes.

The truth was, she was weeks ahead of everyone in that damn school and despite the fact that she’d missed almost as much time as Stiles, her grades had barely slipped, maybe a couple of points, but not much. They were still ‘A’s they would always be ‘A’s. She retained information just fine and all most classes required is that you regurgitate it back to them.

And if that wasn’t enough, Lydia hadn’t gotten any better at controlling how she felt things, when she felt things or how to understand the occasional whispered voice in her head. It was frustrating for someone like her. Lydia was so used to mastering skills and the lack of being able to do that in this situation was creating inadequacy issues she hadn’t even known she had.

She could feel the heat of Scott’s gaze on the back of her head as they turned the corner and walked into the hallway that Stiles’ room was in. Lydia huffed, “Don’t you have better more productive things to do than stare at me, McCall?”

It had been a long few days. Despite the fact that he didn’t _want_ to be anywhere but at the hospital with Stiles while he recovered, his mom had made him go back to school. So he’d gone. He’d gone to his classes, then immediately to work, then to the hospital to spend the rest of the night with Stiles. He did his homework while Stiles either slept or worked on his own homework, feeling heartened any time his best friend made some kind of smart ass remark or a joke. It had been such a long time since he’d done that, that Scott thought it had to be a good sign. That Stiles was -- albeit slowly -- getting back to himself.

But it wasn’t just Stiles that Scott was worried about. Lydia had been a whirlwind of emotions for the past twenty-four hours and it was hard to focus on anything other than that. Which was why he couldn’t stop staring at her as they walked down the hospital corridor. He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder when she snapped at him, not the least bit offended. “Hey. Stop.” His voice was firm. “What’s going on, Lydia? You’ve been upset all day.”

Lydia paused, her strides coming to an abrupt halt. Her brows furrowed. “I’m not upset.” She said as she glanced at Scott and the expression on his face told her he wasn't buying it. Lydia sighed and shifted on her feet, the light blue dress she wore shifting with her movements. “I’m not upset, I’m annoyed and tired and…” her voice trailed off and she shook her head, her voice softening slightly when she realized how sharp it was, “I’m just...having an off day. I’m sure I’ll be back to normal in no time,” whatever that was, Lydia added silently.

When she said she wasn’t upset, Scott had simply arched an eyebrow at her. Obviously _that_ wasn’t true. He knew it wasn’t because he could _feel_ her emotions like a tangled jumble of Stiles’ yarn for case-solving. “Take a deep breath,” he told her quietly. “And let it out slowly. Then tell me what’s bothering you. It’ll make you feel better. And I’ll even buy you a coffee later.”

Lydia opened her mouth to protest, but decided not to. Scott was only trying to help. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly her shoulders slumping slightly with the action. “I really am just having a bad day.” She said opening her mouth to elaborate and then deciding against it. Scott had enough on his plate between himself and Stiles without adding her crap to it. “It’s nothing...I just,” she paused, “I just really want to go see Stiles. I promise I’m okay.” It wasn’t a lie, not really. Lydia _would_ at some point be okay.

Scott sighed very softly, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Truthfully he was anxious to see Stiles, too. He’d been texting with him all day, and almost had his phone taken away during AP Chemistry. It was hard to focus on much of anything else when your best friend was lying in a hospital, and though Stiles’ anxiety seemed to have decreased the last few days, it was still ever-present and Scott felt it in his gut. Other thoughts were plaguing him as well, like how he needed to talk to Lydia about talking to Peter. How _he_ needed to talk to Deaton still. How things with Allison and Isaac were still so very strained. There was so much to be done that he didn’t really know where or how to start. So when Lydia promised she was okay, though he doubted the truthfulness in that, he nodded and walked with her down the hall toward Stiles’ room.

It didn’t take them long to get to the door and Lydia tapped her hand against it gently before pushing it open and walking inside, smiling softly when she spotted Stiles. Her gaze shifted to Derek who was sitting beside Stiles flipping through a magazine. Lydia arched an eyebrow as Scott stepped into the room beside her. “Hey,” she said making sure to keep her tone bright as she spoke. “Quizzing each other to see who has the best kissing technique?” She quipped while placing her bag of books down on the small rolling table near Derek.

Scott grinned as he walked over to the other side of Stiles and dropped his backpack on the floor before dropping down in the empty seat, some of the tension already leaving his body.

Stiles snorted at Lydia’s question. “I still can’t even convince him to let me meet his future dates before he goes out with them yet to let him know if they’re evil or not. I don’t think we’ve reached the level of confidence it requires to discuss who’s a better kisser. Even if the answer is obviously me.” He smirked, resisting the urge to look at Derek as he spoke. He could just imagine the look the older guy was giving him. Probably somewhere between exasperated and annoyed.

Stiles turned his attention to Scott, lifting a fist into the air and flashing him a grin. “Hey.”

Scott pounded his fist in greeting, “Hey man, how’s it going?” He asked before glanced briefly at Derek and nodding in his direction.

Derek returned Scott’s nod and then caught Lydia’s gaze his eyes flashing blue on purpose and Lydia rolled her eyes. “Don’t even; you’ve proven quite a bit recently that your bark is worse than your bite. So put the wolf eyes away and stop your pouting,” she said matter-of-factly as she pulled out a single pack of Reese’s peanut butter cups and then edged her way past Derek and carefully sat on the edge of Stiles’ bed since Scott and Derek were in the chairs.

“Can’t complain,” Stiles told Scott before shifting his attention to Lydia, who was holding a pack of peanut butter cups. “Just for the record...that’s to share, right?” he asked, eying it, not realizing they were all staring at him. When he looked around, he blinked. Right. He hadn’t been eating a lot for awhile now. “It’s like my favorite candy.” He shrugged.

Derek shook his head. “I think this is my cue to go get some dinner and call my sister. Anyone want anything when I come back?”

Scott grinned at Stiles’ comment glad that he was eating again. He didn’t care what it was as long as it was something. Just another sign that his best friend was getting better. Scott tilted his head and glanced at Derek. “I could eat. Anything really I’m starving. Mom will probably bring food by later too when the sheriff gets off,” he said, “So make sure you save room for that.” He said knowing his mom would make enough for Derek.

Lydia shook her head, “Not hungry, but thanks.” She said softly catching Derek’s gaze and sending him half a smile, to dull her earlier comment.

He nodded, “I’ll be back.” He told them heading for the door.

Lydia glanced at Stiles and grinned bringing the conversation back to the chocolate in her hand, “Maybe that’s why I brought them,” she paused, “Or maybe I was just really craving them,” she commented as she opened the package and held them out so he could take one.

Stiles took one of the peanut butter cups, automatically breaking it in half and handing the other half to Scott, like they were six years old and sharing their lunches with each other at school. He popped his half in his mouth, watching as Derek left the room, then looking back at Lydia. “Thanks.” He chewed and swallowed, reaching out and picking up his glass of ice water. Butterflies began to flutter nervously in his stomach because there were two very important things he needed to talk to them about and he was nervous about both issues.

Scott leaned forward taking the chocolate with an excited grin and popping into his mouth right away. “Good lookin’ out bro,” he said as he leaned back in his seat.

Lydia paused the chocolate a few inches from her mouth as she felt her stomach flutter nervously; causing her brows drew together, “What’s wrong?” She asked concern filling her features as she shifted slightly so she could meet Stiles’ gaze.

Stiles blinked, a little weirded out by her ability to sense his faint anxiety. “Nothing, exactly. I mean, not really.” He hoped not. He pressed the mechanical button on the bed railing so he could sit up a little better, and turned his head to look at Scott, hesitating. “Would you uh -- mind shutting the door, dude?”

Scott frowned, “Sure,” he said exchanging a glance with Lydia as he stood not sure what was going on. He walked over to the door and pulled it closed before making his way back to the chair and sitting down slowly. Scott could feel the tension creeping back into his body, “What’s on your mind?” He asked calmly though Stiles’ anxiety wasn’t exactly evoking calm feelings in him.

Stiles relaxed a little at his best friend’s calm tone. “There’s sort of...something I haven’t told you guys. I just -- needed a little time to process things first.” He looked between them. “I called Allison and Isaac a couple days ago and asked them to come and see me here.” He chewed his lower lip, meeting each of their eyes in turn.

Surprised crossed Scott’s face at his friends’ words.

“You did?” Lydia asked also surprised. She glanced at Scott and he arched an eyebrow in her direction. Apparently he had taken too long to make that happen. He was surprised that Stiles reached out to them, but incredibly relieved. It meant he was finally facing his demons. He had avoided them at all costs before, but the fact that he was reaching out now or already reached out was a big step.

“I think that’s great,” Scott said as he leaned forward a small smile on his face. “How’d that go...why didn’t you tell us?” He asked as Lydia rested a hand casually on Stiles’ arm letting Scott ask the questions they both had.

“Yeah, I did. It was time.” Stiles drew in a breath and exhaled slowly. “And I don’t want either of you to like, keep avoiding them or pushing them away because of me or because you think I don’t want them around. I just...didn’t want to face them after everything that --” The words _I did_ were on the tip of his tongue, but he changed his mind at the last minute. “ -- happened.”

Scott hesitated his gaze once again shifting to Lydia who was surprisingly silent as she looked away from him. His brows drew together momentarily before he glanced back over at Stiles. “I know,” he said quietly. “I’ve been meaning to talk to them for a while, but,” he hesitated again, “It’s hard. I know that’s no excuse,” Scott rushed on, “And I do have every intention of sitting down to talk to them. I just can’t help seeing them side with Argent instead of us every time I look at them and it makes me really angry,” Scott admitted honestly. “They’re a part of this pack and when shit hit the fan they should have stood with us instead of against us.” Scott looked down and swallowed hard.

“And I know I can’t blame them, with everything that happened I really do understand their choices, but at the same time, the alpha in me feels betrayed and I’m not entirely sure how to make that feeling go away, which is why I haven’t approached them.”

Stiles looked down at his hands for a moment, considering Scott’s words. He understood where his best friend was coming from. And he also knew it wasn’t just about Scott being the alpha. It was about Scott and Stiles and Scott’s protective best friend nature. And he knew if their situations had been reversed, Stiles wouldn’t be so quick to forgive Allison and Isaac and Chris Argent either. So he got it. But he’d been the cause of the group’s fracture and he had to be the one to start piecing it back together.

He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, turning to look at Scott again. “I get it, Scottie. Okay?” His voice was soft, calming. Stiles rarely ever had to speak in this kind of tone to Scott because usually it was the other way around. “But I need you to listen because there’s some stuff you don’t know.” He shut his eyes for a moment, knowing this was going to hurt his best friend, hurt Lydia, too, probably, and he didn’t want that, but he had to make them understand why he didn’t and couldn’t hold anything against the Argent’s or against Isaac. “Okay, so I didn’t just show up there by random coincidence that night.”

He swallowed hard, dropping his gaze to his hands again. “I convinced it to go to the Argent’s in the first place.”

Scott tensed and then shifted forward slowly, “You what?” He asked his voice quiet. “Why would you do that?” He asked the frown back on his face as he shook his head, it made no sense.

“Because you wanted them to do it didn’t you?” Lydia asked her chest tight. It was the only reason he had to go there. There was no other explanation and she was pretty sure Scott knew that deep down. Stiles had given up on himself and if Chris hadn’t taken a warning shot, Stiles would be dead right now. This time it was her stomach that gave a lurch, her chest feeling heavy.

But Lydia’s expression stayed the same, not wanting Stiles to get upset because she was upset.

Scott pursed his lips not fully able to hide the hurt in his gaze, “Stiles...didn’t you know I’d figure out a way to save you? That I wouldn't stop until I did? Why-” his words cut off and he looked down the thought that he’d come that close to losing his best friend...plus the fact that he had texted Chris in the end to come kill him...well it was all a lot to take in.

Stiles wasn’t surprised that Lydia figured it out so quickly. She knew him as well as Scott did by now. His chest tightened at the hurt look on Scott’s face. “Scott...that thing was in my head, but...I was in its head too. I knew the things it was planning to do. And it had already burned down that asylum. People _died_. It went after my _dad_. Your _mom_ , Scott. It was going to kill you all. And it wasn’t going to do it fast.” Because that wasn’t the way the Nogitsune worked. It fed off chaos, pain, strife. Grew stronger because of those things. Hot tears stung his eyes and he brushed them away with the sleeve of his hospital gown.

“So I convinced it to go after the Argent’s first because I didn’t want to have any of your blood on my hands,” he whispered. “And because I knew if anyone would be able to do it, it would be Allison’s dad.” He let out a shaky breath. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone else. It wasn’t that I didn’t have faith in you, Scott. I felt how strong it was getting. And I was scared for you. Because you were right at the top of its list.”

Scott closed his eyes leaning forward and resting his arms on his legs, head in hands. He could feel his eyes burning with tears. As always Stiles was being selfless, putting himself in danger to protect everyone else. He’d rather die than see anything happen to them and that fucking killed Scott inside because he knew if anything ever happened to Stiles he’d be so lost. If his friend-no his _brother_ had succeeded, and Argent killed him, Scott wouldn't know what to do with himself.

The connection he had with Stiles was stronger than anything else in his life; he didn’t know who he was without Stiles by his side. Their friendship could withstand anything and had on several occasions. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that,” he said his voice strained as he tried not to let the tears fall. “I dragged you into all this crap and look what almost happened. I’m so sorry Stiles,” he finally glanced up and he could see the tears in Stiles’ eyes and Lydia’s too.

She was silent beside his best friend, but he could see her gripping Stiles arm gently offering him comfort. Scott shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose trying to will the tears away. “This is all just so messed up,” he said as he reached out to his friend resting his hand on Stiles’ other arm.

Between the guilt and pain swirling around in Stiles that echoed in the pit of her stomach and her own emotions, Lydia couldn’t form words at the moment. Her face was pale as her stomach rolled while she attempted to push the rush of emotion back unsuccessfully. Her heart was beating fast in her chest, but she kept her hand on Stiles offering him what little comfort she could. Lydia wasn’t surprised that Stiles had put them first, that he was willing to sacrifice his life for everyone else, that’s just the kind of person he was and it made her heart clench even tighter.

At Scott’s apology, Stiles stared at him, shaking his head as his mouth dropped open. “ _Scott._ Let’s take a step back and remember how this all actually started, okay? I’m the one who dragged you out into the woods in the middle of the night that night, not the other way around. If I hadn’t, Peter Hale never would have attacked and bit you in the first place. So don’t put this on yourself because we _both_ know that’s not true. That’s not how it happened.” His voice was sharp, sharper than it had been in awhile, and insistent.

Stiles looked at Lydia, swallowed hard at the look on her face, like she wanted to throw up or pass out, or possibly both. His best friend didn’t look too much different, really. He shifted in the bed, reaching out and putting the railing down. “Get up here,” he told Scott, making room for him, too.

Scott hesitated for less than a minute before getting up and sitting on the other side of Stiles, brushing the tears away from his eyes before they could really fall. “Dude, you know I don’t even think of it that way. You didn’t _drag_ me out there, I wanted to go.” He was quiet for a minute, “At this rate I think we’re going to go back and forth taking the blame for all this shit,” he said bluntly.

“How about we agree that neither of us are to blame...because that’s the truth really.” He said quietly as he glanced at his best friend.

Stiles didn’t understand, and probably never would understand, how Scott was so forgiving about things that had literally altered the course of his life. He stared at Scott for a long moment, then reached out, hugging him wordlessly as he exhaled. “Okay,” he said quietly. “And that sorta means we can’t blame Allison and her dad and Isaac, either. Everyone was just trying to do the right thing.”

Scott chuckled at how relentless Stiles was, but that was a good sign, so he was okay with it. He shook his head before sighing, “Yeah, I know,” he said quietly before rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re right,” he and Derek had both been right, “I’ll talk to them tomorrow.” He commented as some of the tension left his body as he glanced between Stiles and Lydia.

“Of course I am. I’m always right. You know this.” He patted Scott’s back lightly, and then turned his gaze to Lydia, who’d been utterly silent for far too long. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, shifting slightly.

The anxiety in her chest was fading as were Stiles’ emotions, leaving her with the tangled mess of her own emotions that seemed to be rapidly growing out of control. Just another thing she could add to the list of things she couldn’t master, like her own damn feelings. Lydia swallowed heavily and nodded, “Yeah,” she said her voice hoarse despite the fact that she hadn’t screamed in over a week.

Lydia cleared her throat and nodded. “I’m okay and it is about time I talked to Allison.” She said. She had been angry, but over the past couple of days, she’d been thinking about Allison and how everything had played out. Her best friend had been protecting Isaac, just like she’d been protecting Stiles. It wasn’t that they were going against each other...they were merely protecting the boys they...cared about and that’s what it came down to.

How could she fault Allison for doing the same thing she’d done? Lydia hadn’t thought about anything except protecting Stiles and she’d been willing to do anything to do it, just like Allison had been willing to do anything to protect Isaac and all of them really. She’d been able to make the hard decision that Lydia couldn’t and they’d been pushing away from her and Isaac ever since, which wasn’t fair. Lydia was being a bad friend and she needed to rectify that before it was too late.

Her whispered “yeah” didn’t really reassure Stiles in the least. Her face was too pale, eyes too full of weariness. He looked at Scott sideways, his own eyes full of worry. Lydia needed to rest and start taking care of herself instead of worrying so much about him. Scott, too, for that matter. He sighed softly. “And also the two of you need to start taking better care of yourselves. Like actual sleep at night. Because I know neither of you are.” He reached out and took Lydia’s hand, squeezing it gently.

When Stiles glanced at him he pursed his lips and glanced away a hint of guilt in his gaze. Scott ran a hand over his face, “It’s hard to sleep when there’s so much going on.” he commented before glancing at Lydia.

“I know, man. But you’re an alpha now and you need more rest so you can do...alpha _things._ ” Stiles waved his hand vaguely toward Scott. He still wasn’t entirely clear what the entailed, but he was going to find out as soon as he got out of the hospital and had time to do more research.

Lydia nodded in agreement, “He’s right.” She responded. Scott cleared his throat and Lydia glanced up and he motioned to Stiles with his gaze and she frowned barely shaking her head before looking away from him. Scott wanted her to tell Stiles. It wasn’t that she wanted to lie to Stiles especially with how he was just opening up, but the last thing she wanted to do was make him feel bad.

Scott sighed and scratched the back of his head. “There’s something I’ve got to tell you.” Maybe if he shared what’s been going on with him, Lydia would feel better about telling Stiles what was going on with her.

Stiles didn’t miss the subtle unspoken conversation that Lydia and Scott had with one another before Scott spoke again and his eyebrows furrowed. He was definitely missing something and if his gut was right, it was something big. “Okay,” he said slowly, letting his gaze focus on Scott again since that was who had spoken.

Scott gave Stiles a hesitant smile, “Well, since you mentioned doing alpha things, there’s uh, this new alpha thing I’m doing.” Scott glanced at Lydia and she arched an eyebrow. He looked back at his best friend. “I can sort of feel you.” Scott scrunched his nose, “I feel Lydia too.” He said getting the words out in one quick blow.

Stiles blinked a couple of times, sitting up a little straighter in bed. “Wait, what? Like feel us how? Like you feel Isaac? Is that normal? Does that usually happen when humans are in a wolf pack?”

Scott grinned and cupped Stiles shoulder, “I kinda love you, Dude.” He chuckled, relief evident on his face. “Uh, no, I mean I don’t know. It’s sort of like how I feel Isaac and Derek, but...different. You know? It’s not as strong as- uh the others,” he amended realizing he’d been about to say not as strong as Lydia feels it. “It’s just different like, I know if you’re not okay and I can pick up on your moods or emotions when they shift.” He explained. “Derek says it’s not...usual. But he doesn’t know much about it. I need to go talk to Deaton about it.” He shrugged.

“And I feel Lydia because of the banshee side. I actually feel her stronger than you.” He flattened his hand and smiled, “Sorry dude,” he said apologizing for not feeling Stiles as much. “But I think it’s growing. The connection. So, I need to see if Deaton knows what’s going on so I can manage it and stuff.”

Stiles sat in utter silence for a moment, trying to take in what all that actually meant. “So how do you feel Isaac and Derek? Like, what’s the difference?” he asked uncertainly, looking between Scott and Lydia curiously. “Do you feel your mom, too? Or my dad? Or just me and Lydia? Wait, what about Allison and Kira?” He knew he was asking a lot of questions, but that was sort of his thing on a semi-normal day.

Scott sighed, but there was a slight smile on his lips. “With Derek and Isaac it’s more like I feel them when something is wrong. I know if they’re in trouble and I can distinguish their roars,” he said shifting on the bed to get more comfortable. “With you it’s not just when you’re in trouble. It’s when there’s any large shift in your emotional state...I think, I’m not really sure.” He told his friend sheepishly.

“I can’t feel my mom or your dad. Just you and Lydia. I can’t feel Allison and I--” he paused, “I haven’t really seen Kira.” He said quietly not sure if she was avoiding him or if she just hadn’t been in school recently.

Stiles was already adding more questions to the mental list he was making, but for now he held back. He studied Scott for a moment, rubbing the back of his head, concerned that he didn’t feel Allison and hadn’t seen Kira. He hoped the latter wasn’t because of him. Something else he was going to have to work on. If he could get someone to bring his laptop the next time they visited, he’d be able to get to work.

“So wait. This is why anytime lately that…” His voice trailed off and he winced, reaching out and punching him in the shoulder lately. “ _Dude._ You should have _told_ me sooner.” He was pretty sure he could have gotten some Xanax or something to get his anxiety issues under control more quickly. He didn’t want Scott suffering because of him.

Scott mock winced, “Hey it’s a good thing we can feel you or Derek wouldn’t have gotten to you in the woods in time,” he countered, “It’s not a big deal once I learn how to control it I’m sure I’ll be able to offset the non-life threatening emotions.” He said with a short laugh and a grin.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at that, staring at him. “We?” he echoed.

Scott opened his mouth and pointed to himself, “Me, I said me, not we.” He said doing his best to keep his gaze from straying to Lydia that would be a dead giveaway. Damn, he was an ass.

Lydia sighed. “We,” she confirmed.

Stiles groaned and laid back against the pillows on his bed, heaving a sigh. “ _Seriously?_ I thought the whole ritual that Deaton gave us to do was supposed to…” He waved a hand, guilt eating at him as he rubbed a hand over his face.

“It’s not like that,” Lydia said softly. “It’s sort of how Scott feels you,” she paused, “It’s how I knew to call Derek. I told him where you were.” Lydia said quietly leaving out the part where she’d passed out in the girl’s bathroom and then slept for about 12 hours in the hospital. He didn’t need that guilt, he already had enough.

“I don’t know how to explain what it is.” She said with a shrug not meeting his gaze.

Stiles exhaled slowly, sadness in his eyes. “So it’s...your abilities then?” he asked hesitantly. “Like a new…” He glanced at Scott and then back at Lydia. “Aspect of them or something?”

“No.”

“Maybe.”

The words were spoken simultaneously and Lydia frowned at Scott. “What do you mean no?” She asked. “I wasn’t aware normal humans could feel other people’s inner turmoil,” she said sarcastically.

Scott shifted, “Well, I mean yes, but no.” He said with a sigh. “And it’s not other people, it’s _Stiles_. Just Stiles. Derek and I were sort of talking about it when you were,” he paused, “Asleep after Stiles was first brought into the hospital. We do think it’s your abilities, but Derek thinks your connection to Stiles is unique. He just isn’t sure why.” He explained.

Lydia’s brows furrowed and she arched a brow at Scott as she let out a short sigh, “Were you planning on tell me?” She inquired lightly.

A contemplative look crossed his face, “It was on my list of things to do...Guess I can check one thing off now huh?” He asked with a boyish grin.

Lydia shook her head attempting to hide her amusement at Scott’s grin, “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

Stiles looked back and forth between them, trying to make sense of the conversation going on between his two closest friends. “And…he doesn’t think the connection between us is because Lydia was my tether in the ritual or because she’s literally the one who got rid of the Nogitsune that was possessing me?”

Scott blinked as he realized he and Derek hadn’t even considered that. “Uh...I don’t think we considered that.”

Stiles frown deepened when the idiot comment registered and he looked at Lydia. “ _Hey._ ”

Lydia glanced at Stiles, “Yeah?” She asked eyebrow arched at his insistent ‘hey’.

 

 

“Excuse you; I had no part in said idiocy.” Stiles gave her a look before turning his head to look at Scott.

Lydia glanced at Stiles, “I wasn’t calling you an idiot, that was meant for your not entirely human half,” she motioned towards Scott. “And Derek.” She added as she placed a hand on his arm. “Never you,” Lydia paused, “Unless of course you act like an idiot.”

The corner of Stiles’ lips quirked at her reference to Scott and he rolled his eyes good naturedly and glanced back at Scott. “Okay, well do you and Deaton feel like you’re connected in any way? Like, I don’t know? Since the ritual, I mean?”

Scott made a face, “No, I’m certainly not feeling things from Deaton.” he said making Lydia smirk.

“Okay so maybe it’s because of the combination of Lydia’s banshee side and the tether.” He paused. “Wait. Were you feeling this all along or did this start after I was…” He looked at her worriedly. “You know, possessed.” He swallowed hard.

“You’re not possessed anymore.” She stated before anything else could be said. “I screamed the body off of that Nogitsune. He exploded in my head and I crushed all of his little Nogitsune pieces with my heels.” She hmphed.

“I know,” Stiles said quietly, reassuring her. He definitely wasn’t possessed anymore. His head was his own, even if his head was still haunted by echoes of the Nogitsune that only time was going to be able to sort through.

Scott’s eyes widened and he snorted amused.

“What?” Lydia asked before sighing and continuing, “I don’t know...It’s hard to remember.” Lydia told them finally addressing Stiles’ question. “The voices in my head and the screams, I finally figured out that they were trying to warn me that the Nogitsune was taking over...after the fact of course which was unhelpful.” She frowned.

“Then after...yeah, I’ve been feeling it ever since we woke up from the ritual. And it’s only gotten stronger since. It started off with me just being anxious when I wasn’t near you and the different things I feel have...changed. I feel more now, it’s stronger.”

Stiles was silent for a moment, thinking as he chewed on his thumbnail. “You mean during my sleepwalking venture.” His voice was quiet, distant as he tried to figure it out, feeling like the answer was just out of reach.

Lydia sighed suddenly, “I don’t know.” She told them. “Maybe I should talk to Deaton too, he could have some answers,” She said as she leaned back beside Stiles on his pillow keeping her legs on the floor.

Scott hesitated, “Actually, there’s someone who might know more about Banshee’s,” he commented keeping his tone light, “Derek mentioned it and I was going to tell you when things calmed down.” He admitted. Scott had just been waiting for the right time to bring it up. “Derek said Peter probably knows about what’s going on.” He told them letting his voice trail off knowing that neither one of them were going to like that, hell he didn't either.

Stiles started to nod in agreement with Lydia, and then he narrowed his eyes, staring at Scott. “You’re actually joking right? We’re supposed to trust Peter _Hale_ for information?” he asked skeptically.

Scott frowned, “I didn’t say we should trust him,” He said glancing over at Lydia noticing she had tensed beside Stiles. “It’s completely your choice if you wanted to seek him out and you wouldn’t be there alone. Derek or I would go with you,” he reassured her reaching over Stiles to squeeze her hand gently. “But we all know Peter knows more than he lets on.”

Lydia pursed her lips. “I guess if he knows how to control whatever’s happening to me…” She glanced away from Scott to Stiles.

Stiles wanted to fold his arms across his chest. “Trust, talk to, have any kind of communication with or affiliation to,” he corrected. “And we also know that Peter Hale is a manipulative asshole who’s only out for himself at the end. What kind of price is this gonna come with? And who’s to say the information he has is even gonna be anything real?”

Lydia felt her heartbeat quicken and something similar to indignation and fear stirred in her stomach. “Stiles,” she said squeezing his arm gently, “Calm down.” She said feeling him getting worked up. “I’m sure we can find a different way, Deaton knows a lot too.” She said soothingly. It wasn’t like she _wanted_ to go see Peter, but if she could get some answers on how to be more in control that would be helpful.

“I’m not saying it’s the worst idea, I just...I don’t like him, and I don’t trust him.” _And I don’t want any of you near him,_ he thought, forcing himself to take a deep breath. And he wasn’t exactly in the position to help out with this one. He looked at Scott apologetically.

Scott sent him a small smile and patted Stiles on the back, “No worries, I get it. It’s actually what I said to Derek. That I didn’t trust him with Lydia and I don’t even trust him with Derek, but it is what it is.” He said as he glanced over at the round clock on the wall. Scott groaned, “I’ve got so much homework, but I don’t actually want to do any of it...My mom will kill me though,” he said as he pushed himself off the bed so he could grab his backpack, “We’ve got some for you too, don’t worry.” Scott told his friend with a grin.

Lydia shook her head. “Homework is good,” she said resting her head back against the pillow again. She was exhausted, but she kept her eyes open. “I’ve got your books in my bag,” she added.

Stiles relaxed a little at Scott’s words, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, actually, mine’s gonna have to wait for about an hour and a half,” he said hesitantly. He held his breath for a moment and looked between them. “I’m having another MRI run in about twenty minutes.” He suddenly didn’t want to look at either of them, and instead focused on tugging a string on the blanket, twisting it between his fingers.

Scott froze midway to getting his bag. _Oh god,_ Scott’s chest tightened and he stayed bent over for a minute, his eyes squeezing shut. How the hell could he have forgotten about that? It felt like ages since the last time Stiles had gotten that first MRI...the one that told him he had the same disease as his mother.

Lydia frowned, “An MRI? Why?” She sat up, “Do they think something else is wrong? I thought you were healing fi-” Her words were cut off abruptly by the tension building in the room. She watched Scott stand slowly before turning to face them and the look on his face said it all. Lydia sucked in a sharp breath as realization hit her. Stiles was sick. He’d told her that and she’d completely forgotten. After everything that happened she had just assumed things would go back to normal and didn’t even take into account that despite the fact that they had saved Stiles from the Nogitsune, he was still _dying_.

Scott pursed his lips as he heard Lydia’s heartbeat jump in her chest he opened his mouth and she gave him a curt shake of the head. He shut his mouth and turned to Stiles, “What, what are they saying? Did it, is it getting worse?” He asked. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut. He still couldn’t believe that he hadn’t remembered, god he really was a terrible friend.

“Okay, everyone just...take a deep breath,” Stiles said, sounding more calm than he really felt. Even if they could feel his emotions somehow, he didn’t have to add to their worry with his voice sounding panicky. He reached out and laid a hand on Scott’s shoulder and the other on Lydia’s leg, not even thinking about how intimate of a touch that could be conceived as. The look that passed between them didn’t escape him and the silent communication thing was already starting to wear on him a little.

“I don’t know yet. They haven’t said anything. I asked to have another one run,” he admitted, looking between them. “I just need to know for sure what’s going on. Okay? I’m not having...blackouts or sleepwalking or talking to people who aren’t there. I just...need to have this done just in case.” He pursed his lips, letting out a slow breath. “And if things don’t come back the way I’m hoping then…” He swallowed hard, looking at Scott. “Then I want you to give me the bite.”

Scott opened his mouth, “Really?” He asked hopefully, the relief clear on his face. He felt Lydia’s relief mirroring his own at Stiles words. He didn’t _want_ to bite Stiles, but if that was the only option he’d do it. Scott hadn’t been sure what his friend would decide on that front. A part of him had hoped Stiles would say yes because he’d feel bad taking a bite out of his friend without his permission, but Scott wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to watch Stiles die and _not_ do anything.

Lydia’s body relaxed just a bit and she rested her hand over his on her bare leg. “I can deal with another werewolf.” She commented softly.

“Yeah.” Stiles’ voice was quiet. He turned his hand in Lydia’s so their fingers wove together, squeezing her hand a little before turning his attention to Scott. “It’s probably ironic considering everything I just told you a few minutes ago, I guess but…” He looked down. “I don’t wanna die, Scott.”

Scott stepped forward, “You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that,” He responded honestly. His chest was tight as he reached out and clasped Stiles’ shoulder. “You’re not going to die, I won’t let you.” His voice was tight. Stiles was his best friend, his brother. He didn’t let some stupid shadow demon get him and he certainly wasn’t going to let some ridiculous disease take him either. “I mean really I’m just way too selfish to let death have you,” he said meeting his friend’s gaze.

“You can’t leave...we’ve got college plans and best man plans, and our kids are totally going to look for dead bodies together,” Scott paused his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. “You’re not going anywhere,” he repeated.

Lydia listened to Scott and she felt her chest tighten. She pressed her free hand against her stomach as anxiety built there. Between Scott’s speech and the emotions from all of them she couldn’t hold back the tears that slid silently down her cheeks, one of them landing right on their entwined hands before she could wipe it away.

Stiles’ own chest tightened at Scott’s words and he covered his best friend’s hand with his own, gripping onto it tightly and nodding. “I know,” he said quietly. “One way or another I’m gonna be fine, okay? If I’m worse, than you’ll save me.”

At the feel of wetness on his hand he looked up at Lydia, pained. “Hey. It’s gonna be okay, Lydia. Just one more werewolf for the pack.”

Scott grinned, “You’re gonna be in my pack like you know, in a non-human way. We can spend the full moon together dude, this time I can chain you up.” He said with playful glare trying to cut the tension in the room.

“Yeah, but will you buy my own water bowl with my name on it just for me?” He smirked at Scott, arching an eyebrow. It was one of the few times in his life he’d actually been _pissed_ at his best friend. He could count on one hand the number of times that had happened over the years. He’d also been terrified for Scott. That always seemed to be the way of things though. The emotions were always so tangled. There was rarely ever just anger or fear or even happiness. It was just a big mix of everything.

Lydia cracked half a smile at their bantering, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She reached up brushing beneath her eyes and nodding. “I know,” she said quietly. There was just so much change going on. Lydia knew Stiles didn’t really want to be a werewolf, but life was sort of forcing his hand. And everything with the Nogitsune, how was that fair? Her head was pounding and she closed her eyes briefly and took a calming breath. “I think I’m going to go grab some coffee,” she said, “Do either of you want anything?” She asked glancing between them.

Scott frowned at the sound of her heartbeat, “No I’m okay.” He said as he watched her turn to Stiles.

Stiles looked at her worriedly. “I’m good. I probably shouldn’t drink anything before the MRI.” He squeezed her hand.

“Right of course,” She said shaking her head. “Sorry.” She swallowed hard and hesitated before releasing his hand and standing up, the skirt of her dress falling back into place. “I’ll be right back.” She told them as she moved around the bed to the door.

Scott watched her go with a frown. Something definitely wasn’t right. She hadn’t been acting like herself all day. He probably should have made her talk about it earlier, but he hadn’t wanted to push and he also really wanted to see Stiles. He sighed before turning back to his friend and giving him half a smile as he sat back on the edge of the bed.

Stiles frowned deeply as he watched her go, troubled. He wasn’t sure if she was just overwhelmed with everything he’d just dumped on her or if there was something else going on, too. He looked back at Scott. “I know that was all...a lot.”

Scott squeezed his friends arm, “It wasn’t you at least not just you.” He reassured his friend. “Something’s wrong, she’s been off all day. Being here is actually the calmest she’s been today,” He admitted, “Her heartbeat was distracting me all day and whatever’s bothering her.” he admitted with a shrug. He had felt her fluctuating emotions all day, but he wasn’t sure what was wrong.

Stiles chewed on his thumbnail again. “Maybe I should see about rescheduling the MRI.” Right now he was more worried about Lydia than he was his brain.

Scott shook his head, “No, dude...just no. We’ve gotta know. I got Lydia okay?” He said quietly, “We’ll probably spend the night here, but if mom doesn’t let us again then I’ll take her back to my place and have her spend the night so she can get some sleep, okay?” He asked quietly. He was worried about Lydia too, but he was also worried about Stiles.

Stiles sighed softly, nodding silently as he gazed at Scott. “Okay.” His voice was quiet. “You know, Dude, I know you’re the alpha and everything, but this isn’t all on you. You know that, right?”

Scott nodded, “I know,” he hesitated as he shifted closer to Stiles, “We’ve all been having a hard time.” he told his friend honestly. “But it’s getting better. And I’m not taking everything on, just Lydia at the moment.” He said with half a smile. “I’m worried about her, she’s my friend too.” He reminded Stiles.

Stiles began to pick at the string on his blanket again. “Yeah, I know,” he said quietly. He was just sorry he’d been the cause of so much of the problem to begin with. “I want to help fix things. Set things right again.”

Scott squeezed Stiles’ arm gently, “I know and honestly man you are. I swear.” he told him quietly. “Just being here makes me feel a lot better, and Lydia too.” He studied his friend, “She always seems a lot calmer around you.” He said letting his words trail off.

Stiles hesitated a second. “I feel better when you guys are here, too. This probably isn’t super healthy. I mean, we’re gonna end up even more co-dependent than before and man, who even knew that was possible?” His voice was light.

Scott arched an eyebrow, “It gets more co-dependent than sharing a bed with your best friend and his...Lydia?” Scott asked slightly amused. “Because for the record I can’t wait for you to get out of here, so we can resume our sleepovers. On a scale of 1-to-10 how bad does it sound that I sleep better when I’m with you and Lydia? Because when I say it, it definitely sounds funny to me,” he joked trying to lighten the mood.

A smirk tugged at his mouth. “Okay you have a point there.” Truthfully he was kind of worried that as soon as he was out of the hospital and not under the influence of heavy sedatives, he was going to slip right back into terrible nightmare mode. “And as badness goes, I think that probably only rates around a two, all other things considered.”

Scott grinned, “I’m glad you think so, I’ll be packing an overnight back and dropping it off at your house,” he joked even though he caught the worry on Stiles face. “Any word on when they’re releasing you?” He asked while tapping his hand against his leg.

“Seriously. Just take a _drawer_ ,” he joked back. He raked a hand through his hair. “Couple more days.” He finally managed to tug the string free from the blanket, then made a face. He pitched it to the side and looked up at Scott again.

Scott arched an eyebrow, “You okay man? Want to talk about what’s causing you to rip apart the poor unsuspecting blanket?” He asked wondering if there was something new on his friend’s mind.

Stiles reached instinctively toward the next loose string despite Scott’s words. “I’m nervous,” he admitted almost inaudibly.

Scott’s chest tightened. “It’s going to be okay,” he said quietly as he reached out to his friend again. “You know that right? And I’ll be here, I can stay again like last time and I’m sure mom and your dad will be there. You’re not alone.” He said squeezing his friend’s arm.

“No, I know. I know. I’m just -- I don’t like small spaces that much. I’m definitely taking the headphones this time.” He smiled a little. “Maybe some tunes will help me relax.” Truthfully he was nervous because the last time he’d been in the MRI machine, his body had been hijacked by a monster that had wanted to kill everyone he loved.

Scott tilted his head to the side, “Are you...are you lying to me?” He asked eyebrows pulling up. “Dude, talk to me...it’s Scott, you’re best friend...cuddle buddy...Alpha?” He could see Stiles was worried about something, but small spaces didn’t seem like the right answer.

Stiles gave Scott a look. “You know, if you were anybody but you I’d be really creeped out by that, because I have it on good authority that I am a great liar.” He went back to tugging at the string, heaving a soft sigh. “The last time...it’s when it all really started, okay? And what if…” He chewed on his lower lip. “What if there’s still something, I don’t know some little...bit of it left?”

Realization hit Scott and his chest tightened. “No, Stiles...trust me. It’s gone and I know it might seem like it’s not, but you got that mark from the Oni and Lydia, Lydia and all her badassory took care of the Nogitsune.” He said quietly. “It’s not coming back man, but I get it, okay. How about this.” he paused, “I’ll stay near the room Lydia too if you want and if either one of us feels anything we’ll make them stop the MRI and come get you...Okay?”

He nodded silently. “I know. I know. Logically, I know all of that.” As if to double check, he reached up and felt behind his right ear, relieved to feel the slight indentation there still. He looked over at Scott even as he tugged at the string absently. “Yeah it’s...definitely please be close by, just in case.”

“You got it,” Scott said without hesitation. “I will be right there, I promise.” He told Stiles with a smile and a pat on the back.


	8. Chapter 8

Scott ran down the hallway pushing the wheelchair and he made swishing noises and avoided nurses walking down the hall. He turned the corner with Stiles jerking the chair to a halt. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly and he walked to the open doorway of Stiles’ hospital room. “That was fun,” he commented, “The wheelchair part, not the rest.” He said as he pushed the chair into the room and spotted Derek right away.   
  
Scott smiled, “Hey, you’re back,” he said lowering his voice when he spotted Lydia beside Derek, head resting on his shoulder. He nodded in her direction as he stopped the chair beside Stiles’ bed. “When did she conk out?” He asked as he held out a hand to help Stiles out of the chair.   
  
Stiles snorted at Scott’s remark, craning his neck to look up at his best friend and shaking his head in amusement as he wheeled him back into his room. He nodded at Derek as he took Scott’s hand and rose to his feet, climbing back into the hospital bed carefully.   
  
“Not too long ago, actually,” Derek commented, glancing down at her sleeping form. “I should probably be concerned that I’ve become her newest pillow.”   
  
“No, you should seriously consider yourself _lucky_ that you are her newest pillow,” Stiles informed him without thinking. Then he paused, grimacing.   
  
Scott grinned at his friend. “You can make that face all you want, but we heard you.” He said lightly teasing his friend good naturedly trying to keep his mind off the test he’d just had. His mom and the sheriff were with the doctors now and he knew as soon as they were done talking to him they’d be back in the room.   
  
Scott sat in the chair beside Stiles’ bed and tilted his head. “Should we wake her up and let her know you’re back? She’d probably want to know.” He commented glancing back at his best friend.   
  
Stiles groaned quietly and laid his head back on the pillows. So apparently his feelings for Lydia Martin weren’t quite as buried as he’d thought the last few months. That was frustrating. Then he rolled his head to look over at Derek and Lydia, holding his breath for a moment. “No, just...let her rest while she can. She’s tired,” he said softly.   
  
Derek gave him a knowing look, a faint smirk on his face.   
  
“Shut up,” Stiles muttered, rolling his eyes.   
  
Scott glanced between them and arched an eyebrow, “What’s this? Secrets without me?” He asked his shoulders slumping slightly. He pouted at Stiles, “It’s because Derek spends the days with you isn’t it?” He sighed sending his best friend his best puppy dog eyes.   
  
Derek smirked even wider at that, a short chuckle escaping him involuntarily.   
  
“Oh my god. He laughs. Did you hear that? He _laughs_.” Stiles’ eyes widened and he looked over at Scott, then groaned at the expression on his face. “Seriously. Put those away, Dude. Not necessary. You know all my secrets. Derek just happens to know one of them now too.” He flopped an arm over his eyes.   
  
Scott grinned, “Look at me Stiles...look deep into my eyes,” he said in an exaggerated deep voice, not able to hold the seriousness on his face for long before he chuckled.   
  
“I swear, you three are like children,” Lydia mumbled in a sleep addled voice, but there was half a smile on her face despite the fact that her eyes weren’t open. She shifted opening her eyes and lifting her head off Derek’s shoulder. “You’re back,” she said softly.   
  
God Stiles hoped that Lydia hadn’t overheard his initial remark. He really didn’t want to make things awkward and uncomfortable between them all over again. It wasn’t going to happen and he accepted that. He valued her friendship way too much to just toss it away because he was upset that she didn’t return his feelings. She cared about him, and a year ago even that had been a pipe dream in his opinion.   
  
“Hey don’t lump me in with those two,” Derek said, jerking his thumb toward Scott and Stiles.   
  
Stiles made a face at him and then looked at Lydia. “Yeah, I am.”   
  
Lydia rested her hand on his arm, “Everything went okay?” She asked keeping her tone light. She had known the second he went into the machine. The sound was identical to the one she’d heard last time only this time she’d felt what he was feeling also.   
  
“Everything went okay,” he told her with a nod. And by that he meant that he hadn’t A) had a panic attack or B) had an evil fox hijack his body. Both of those things were a plus in his book. “Mom and --” He froze. “Uh, Ms. McCall and my dad are talking to the doctors now.” He reached out and plucked at one of the strings on the blanket, which was apparently his new favorite nervous habit.   
  
None of them missed his slip of the tongue calling Ms. McCall mom, but he seemed to not want to draw attention to it so both Lydia and Scott squeezed his arm and hand gently.   
  
Scott knew Stiles thought of his mom as his mom and Scott was okay with that. He thought of Stiles’ dad as a second father, or really a first. They were a family blood or not.   
  
Stiles coughed and smiled a little changing the subject. “Have a nice nap?”   
  
Lydia nodded as she stood, “I finally found Derek an amazing purpose,” She said with a grin as she came over sidestepping the chair and sat on the bed beside Stiles. “He’s a really good pillow. He doesn’t move a lot. He’s sort of like a statue, but soft.” She commented as she met Stiles’ gaze.   
  
Scott chuckled as he glanced at Derek.   
  
“Is that a judgment on the fact that I sleep like an egg beater?” Stiles asked, arching his eyebrows as he met her eyes. “And therefore make a lousy pillow?”   
  
Derek arched an eyebrow, wondering if the two of them regularly shared a bed.   
  
Lydia was surprised by his words and surprised by the fact that they made her chest tighten. She slid her hand down his arm until she was able to curl her fingers around his making him drop the blanket. “It wasn’t,” she said quietly, “Derek might be a really good pillow, but you’re my favorite. You sleep calmly with me.” She said matter-of-factly. “I was actually referring to Scott. He’s a terrible pillow, the boy moves everywhere in his sleep. I’m pretty sure he elbowed me once too.” She told Stiles.   
  
Scott’s mouth dropped open, “That is not true. I am a wonderful bedmate. I’m respectful of the covers rule, I keep to my side of the bed...Okay so I toss and turn a bit, but who doesn’t?” He asked with a huff. “I’m offended.” He said even though he really wasn’t. Of course Lydia liked Stiles the most...she _liked_ Stiles. But not according to her or Stiles. People said he was the oblivious one.   
  
Stiles looked at Lydia, smiling faintly. “It’s about the only time I am calm, probably.” And apparently she and Scott would both know. But he couldn’t help but grin a little at being called her favorite, even if she didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Then he looked over at Scott, shaking his head. “I call shenanigans. I sleep in the middle so if anyone’s getting elbowed from Scott it’s me unless it’s just not waking me up.” He chuckled a little. “And yes, Scott, you’re the perfect bedmate.” He patted his arm affectionately, then looked at Lydia. “He has a very fragile ego. Very sensitive guy.”   
  
“You know, wolves sleep in piles,” Derek spoke up, watching all three of them with the hint of a smirk on his face. “It’s both a safety and a family thing.”   
  
Stiles blinked at that and looked over at him and then at Scott, not even sure what to say about _that_.   
  
Lydia rolled her eyes, “Fragile my ass, he’s fishing for compliments.” She said side eyeing him. Scott made an indignant noise in the back of his throat and then huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, pouting again. Lydia turned her attention to Stiles, “And I was talking about when I was staying with Scott...before,” she commented letting her voice momentarily trail off before glancing over her shoulder at Derek. “Is that your way of telling us you want to sleep with us?” She asked casually as she gave him a once over, “Because I’m not sure you’d fit in the bed.” Lydia told him.   
  
“My best friend doesn’t fish for compliments,” Stiles defended loyally, even as his lips turned up in a grin betraying the truth on his face. “He’s the hot girl. He doesn’t need to.”   
  
Derek grimaced. “I don’t even want to know what the hell you’re talking about.” He looked at Lydia and rolled his eyes. “Thanks, but I’m just fine in my own bed where I don’t end up getting elbowed or with an arm over my face or drool on my shoulder.” He smirked at her.   
  
Lydia had the decency to look appalled. “I do not _drool_. And Stiles would never drool on me...I’d kill him.” Lydia said before glancing over her shoulder and catching Stiles gaze, “You heard that right?” She asked not giving him a chance to answer, “And for the record,” her gaze fell to Scott her eyes thinning comically, “ _I’m_ the hot girl.” She said with a flip of her hair.   
  
Scott rolled his eyes, “I’m the alpha,” He challenged leaning forward.   
  
Lydia snorted, “You’re not my alpha.”   
  
“Of course he is. He’s all of our alpha and you’re his banshee,” Stiles informed her. “Derek is the grumpy puppy, and I’m his…” He paused, trying to figure that one out. “...Stiles.” He grinned and looked over at Scott.   
  
Derek folded his arms across his chest. “You’re all ridiculous. For the record.”   
  
Lydia held up a hand, “Excuse me, but I am my own personal Banshee and sometimes I let Scott use me.” She paused her brows furrowing, “Those words didn’t have their desired effect, but essentially I am my own person. That’s the point. I belong to me. Derek belongs to Derek and Scott you belong to Stiles and Stiles belongs to...uh, himself.” She said before clearing her throat.   
  
“I have to admit I am in full agreement with Lydia,” Derek informed them.   
  
Stiles rolled his eyes. “Wait, so I have ownership of Scott?” His eyes lit up and he sent his best friend a sidelong glance. “Does that mean I’m my alpha’s alpha?”   
  
Scott snorted, “Please I’m a true alpha,” he said puffing out his chest, “No one’s my alpha but me...and my mom ‘cause she’s kind of scary when she’s mad.” He said scratching his chin thoughtfully.   
  
Stiles nodded “Your mom is kind of scary when she’s mad,” Stiles agreed. “Especially if she’s grounding you from _me._ ” He pouted a little, laying back in the bed.   
  
“It’s true,” He agreed before addressing Lydia’s comment, “But unlike you people I am okay with belonging to _my_ best friend,” he said smirking at Lydia. “But that also means Stiles belongs to me too because he’s like my brother,” He said leaning forward and placing a hand on Stiles’ arm.   
  
Stiles smiled faintly at Scott’s next words and turned to meet his best friend’s eyes. He was pretty sure he and Scott had belonged to each other since they first met so many years ago.   
  
Lydia held Scott’s gaze for a moment before shaking her head and squeezing Stiles hand, that she was still holding, gently, “Stiles doesn’t belong to you,” she said with a sigh.   
  
Lydia’s words made Stiles look at her, eyes curious when she protested.   
  
Scott arched an eyebrow, “No, who does he belong to?” He asked curiously as he watched the redhead-no strawberry blonde- Stiles voice corrected in his head, beside his best friend.   
  
Lydia opened her mouth, “I,” she paused, “I told you himself. “ She waved a hand as her heartbeat picked up speed. “This conversation is nonsensical. Let’s just agree that we’re a pack, but I make my own decisions because I’m me, and put an end to it.” Lydia ordered lightly as she brushed her thumb over Stiles hand.   
  
Scott glanced at Derek, a grin on his face as he leaned back in his seat. “Fine.”   
  
Derek met Scott’s eyes, knowing they’d both heard Lydia’s heart beat speed up just a little when she was trying to determine who Stiles belonged to. He nodded ever so slightly before glancing between him and Stiles, “Your mom grounded you from Stiles? How did either of you manage to survive?” Derek asked with a smirk.   
  
Lydia glanced at Derek, “Guys, Derek made a joke,” she paused and grinned, “I think he likes us.” Her grin turned into a smirk, “They’re dragging you to the darkside,” she whispered, “Soon You’ll be acting just like them and I’ll have to find a new group of friends,” she joked not meaning it in the slightest. Lydia was pretty sure she’d never had real friends until Allison, Scott, and Stiles. Some of her bad mood was finally lifting and she was barely thinking about the test Stiles had just had. It was a nice change for once.   
  
Scott beamed, “I know he likes us. He spends more time with us than anyone else.” He glanced at Derek, “We like you too, Derek.” He glanced at Stiles, “Don’t we like Derek? He’s been very agreeable lately.” He said patting his friend’s leg.   
  
Stiles couldn’t help but smirk at Lydia’s comment. “Of course he does. How could he not? We’re awesome. He’s known it all along; really, he just didn’t want to admit it.”   
  
Derek shook his head. “Hate to tell you this, but I think you were already dragged there, Lydia.”   
  
“He’s not wrong.” Stiles squeezed her hand and then glanced at Scott when he patted Stiles’ leg. “It is a nice change from the broody Derek who used to slam my head into _steering wheels_.” He gave the older werewolf a look.   
  
Derek grunted something unfamiliar in his chest tightening. “You deserved it at the time.” Or maybe not, Derek added silently, “And I reserve head banging rights should the need arise, though I don’t forsee it in the near future.” He commented with a casual shrug.   
  
Stiles shrugged at Derek’s comment. “Yeah because now you actually like me. Plus the mutual life saving has helped, right?” He arched his eyebrows.   
  
Derek just grunted in response.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “I’m still confused about the part where I’ve already been dragged to the darkside.” She heard Scott snort, “Shut it alpha boy.” She shifted slightly, her upper thigh brushing against Stiles’. “And let’s keep the head banging to a minimum. Stiles needs his brain cells.” She told Derek offhandedly.   
  
“Well you are spending all your time with these two,” Derek remarked, hooking his thumb to indicated Scott and Stiles. “Enough said.”   
  
“Who’s head banging?” Called the Sheriff as he pulled open the door and walked into the hospital room, Melissa at his side. The room went silent immediately as everyone turned to face them.   
  
Stiles looked over at his dad, chest tightening immediately. “No one, Dad,” he assured him. “Don’t worry. I haven’t started listening to death metal bands and I’m definitely not going to get a bunch of tattoos.” He paused, glancing at Scott and then Derek, shrugging. His fingers found the string on his blanket as he looked at his dad and Scott’s mom, trying to read their expressions. “So uh, what’s the word?” _Am I dying?_   
  
Scott and Lydia simultaneously winced at his question. Scott stilled Stiles’ hand from picking at the blanket as Lydia clenched his other hand in hers. She could feel how nervous he was and it was only intensifying her own nervousness.   
  
Scott swallowed hard noting the tears in his mom’s eyes. His heart plummeted and he felt moisture pool in his eyes. “I can give him the bite, I can do it right now,” Scott said suddenly as panic built in his chest at the thought of losing Stiles.   
  
The sheriff looked at Scott and he walked over putting his hand on his shoulder. “Calm down son,” he said softly as he glanced up at Stiles. He swallowed hard seeing the uncertainty, the fear on his son’s face and the girl next to him. “Stiles doesn’t need the bite,” he said his voice quiet, “He’s going to be just fine.”   
  
All the air left his lungs in a rush. “So the first one. It was a fluke. Because of the foxfire. Right?” It was one of the few questions that had lingered in his mind after the Nogitsune had left his body. “I mean, I’m sure they called it a mechanical error because who’s going to believe it was an evil fox playing a trick?”   
  
Derek leaned forward, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “It threw the results so no one would suspect it,” he said suddenly. “It wanted everyone to believe you were just sick and not possessed.”   
  
“Which was kind of a moot point, really, considering how quickly it took over after that and everyone noticed right away.” Stiles pursed his lips, looking up at his dad. “You’re sure, right?”   
  
Michael shifted forward and Lydia released Stiles’ hand, slipping off the bed to give the sheriff and Melissa some room. She shifted back bumping into Derek’s legs her gaze still on Stiles as her heart slammed against her chest. He was going to be just fine.   
  
Derek reached out gripping her hip and steadying her so she didn’t topple over because of her ridiculously high heels. Lydia placed a hand over his as she watched the sheriff walk over to the spot she had just vacated. “I am positive,” He said quietly as Melissa squeezed Scott’s arm as she walked by him and stood at the other side of Stiles.   
  
“We checked and rechecked.” She said softly as she brushed her hand over his cheek. “You’re going to be just fine,” Melissa told him not able to fight the tear that slipped down her cheek.   
  
Michael glanced up at Melissa and reached out across Stiles gently wiping the tear from her cheek with his thumb before dropping his hand. “Everything is going to be okay now,” he said his voice gruff as he glanced from Melissa to his son.   
  
Scott leaned forward, his eyes widening slightly even as relief filled his body. Stiles was going to be okay. His best friend was going to be okay.   
  
Stiles looked between his dad and Scott’s mom, shifting in the bed and wrapping his arms around his dad’s waist tightly, shutting his eyes, heart beating quickly in his chest. He was okay. He wasn’t dying. He wasn’t possessed anymore. He could stay himself. He was going to be _okay_. Tears blurred his eyes, blotting into his dad’s shirt as he nodded wordlessly, tension leaking out of his body.   
  
Michael hugged Stiles back tightly, not able to convey the amount of relief that was currently sitting in his chest.   
  
Melissa watched them hug before reaching out and hugging Scott to her side. “And if that news wasn’t good enough,” she said softly, “Someone gets to go home in two days.” Melissa said squeezing Scott’s arm gently.   
  
The pressure on his ribs hurt a little but he didn’t even care. He hadn’t told anyone his theory about the foxfire interfering with the MRI results because he wasn’t sure he was right and he hadn’t wanted to get anyone’s hopes up only to be dragged back down by harsh reality. But he’d been right and the amount of relief he felt was overwhelming. After a long moment he pulled away from his dad, smiling up at him and then turning to look at Melissa, hesitant.   
  
Melissa stepped forward, “I’ve been waiting for my hug,” she admitted with a warm smile as she leaned in and wrapped her arms carefully around him. Melissa held him to her chest one hand on his back the other on the back of his head. She pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m so glad you’re okay sweetie,” her words were whispered near the side of his head.   
  
Melissa glanced up at Michael and she could see the tears in his eyes as he watched her with Stiles. She sent him a watery smile, only pulling away from Stiles when she felt she’d suffocated him with her hugs sufficiently. Melissa shifted back and cupped his cheeks. “Your dad and I were thinking, when we bring you home, maybe Scott and I will stay for a day or two, just to help you settle in. What do you think?” She asked softly.   
  
Scott stood, “He thinks it’s a good idea...we both do, right?” He asked Stiles as Scott shifted closer to his mom and his best friend.   
  
Stiles closed his eyes, “Me too,” he said quietly, exhaling and looking over at Scott when she let him go. “Come on. Enough hugs to go around, dude.” He held his arms out for Scott. “And yes, I agree with this plan.”   
  
Derek smiled very faintly, rising to his feet and deciding it was probably time to give them some time alone. He nudged Lydia forward and then stepped around her catching Scott’s eye and sending a nod in his direction before quietly slipping out of the hospital room.   
  
Scott watched Derek go before glancing at Stiles and grinning at his best friends words. He stepped forward and hugged Stiles tightly, wrapping his arms around him. “You have no idea how happy I am man...this is the best news we’ve gotten in a while.” He said not able to keep the emotion from his voice, “I love you, dude.” His voice was muffled, but the words were clear.   
  
Melissa shifted so she was standing beside Michael her hand on his arm as she watched their boys, a smile on her face.   
  
His chest tightened and he nodded as he hugged Scott. “Love you too, man.” Stiles had never really had a problem uttering those words to Scott. Or to his dad, even though a lot of kids his age would have struggled with both. He wasn’t most kids. He loved everyone in the room, actually, even if he couldn’t say it to Lydia. Maybe someday, he thought.   
  
Scott patted his back before finally releasing his friend, a grin on his face. He glanced over at his mom and the sheriff, “We should celebrate,” he commented.   
  
The sheriff nodded. “I’ve got to go back to the station just for a little bit,” he glanced at the clock it was already after five. “I’ve got to fill out some paperwork,” he said glancing at his son apologetically.   
  
Melissa glanced at the boys and then over at Lydia who was standing off to the side. She smiled at her and then turned back to Michael. “Why don’t Scott and I go pick up dinner and then we’ll meet back here?” She suggested.   
  
Scott frowned, “You want me to leave Stiles?” He asked his mom his lips starting to form a pout.   
  
Melissa chuckled, “We won’t be long and Lydia can stay with him until we get back. Thirty minutes tops.” She said before glancing at Stiles, “What are you in the mood for?”   
  
It was almost hard to believe that just a few short weeks ago, he’d not only been sure he was going to die, but that he was going to take out all of his friends and family first, and now things were so different. The guilt weighed on him still, and he wasn’t stupid. It probably always would. But right now celebrating sounded like a good idea, and he couldn’t help but feel a stab of disappointment when his dad said he had to leave. “No, it’s okay. Finish your paperwork. No junk for dinner,” he added, giving his dad a look.   
  
He looked up at Melissa, resisting the urge to frown, but he knew that she probably wanted to spend some time with Scott just the two of them. He was sort of monopolizing most of the guy’s time. He glanced at Scott, managing a tiny smile. “Bring me back some curly fries?” He wasn’t sure how well they’d sit on his stomach but at least they sounded good. “Maybe a burger? Veggie’s fine.”   
  
Melissa nodded and glanced at Michael, “Scott and I can go to the Burger Shack,” she suggested.   
  
Michael nodded, “I like their curly fries,”   
  
Melissa shook her head, “No,” she said before glancing at Stiles. “We’ll get enough for everyone and bring it back here so we can all eat together.” She said with a smile.   
  
Michael nodded, “I should be back in time for dinner.” He said squeezing his son’s shoulder, “Shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.” He told Stiles noticing the look on his face. “Then we can have a nice family meal...without my damn curly fries,” he grumbled.   
  
Stiles beamed at Melissa before shifting his gaze to his dad. “Yeah? That’s it?” he asked hopefully. “Maybe you can have a couple.” He arched an eyebrow. “Just not a lot. They’re bad for you.” His dad knew that.   
  
Michael chuckled, “You’re too good to your old man,” He said with a smile. “Okay, let me get out of here so I can get back.” He squeezed Stiles shoulder and sent a smile in Lydia’s direction, which she returned. He walked over to Scott and patted him in the same way he did Stiles, before his eyes fell on Melissa, “I’ll see you soon,” he said squeezing her arm gently.   
  
Melissa smiled softly in return, nodding. “We’ll be back with food by the time you get back,” she assured him, draping an arm around Scott’s shoulders and guiding him toward the door as well, knowing that Stiles and Lydia probably needed a few minutes alone.   
  
Stiles watched the three of them filter out of the room before turning his attention to Lydia, a tiny grin touching his mouth. “You saw that, right?” There was a hint of excitement in his voice.   
  
Lydia smiled softly at Stiles’ excitement as she finally moved forward pausing beside his bed. “I did.” She told him her voice light as she picked at the blanket on his bed, “It seems like your dad has a thing for Ms. McCall and if I’m reading her right,” she glanced up at Stiles, “which I am, she has one for him too.”   
  
Stiles’ grin broadened at that. “Okay I’m glad it’s not just me and Scott.” He looked down at her fingers, where they’d begun picking at the string he’d been picking at only a few moments ago. He reached out and covered her hand with his. “You okay?”   
  
Lydia glanced up surprised by his question. “Stiles, you’re going to be fine...Of course I’m okay,” she told him softly as she squeezed his hand. “I just, I didn’t want to interrupt.” Lydia admitted. Seeing how amazing the sheriff and Ms. McCall were and how much they loved Stiles, just seemed to remind her of how alone she was.   
  
Which was fine, Lydia could take care of herself. But she wasn’t going to dwell on that. Stiles was okay and she finally felt like she could breathe, like maybe things were going to be okay. Her head hurt a bit and she still wasn’t really sure where she fit into things or how to control what was going on inside of her, but at the moment Stiles was calm and so was she.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard and turned her hand palm up so she could slide her fingers through his. “I’m really glad you’re okay.” Lydia told him as she caught his gaze again, “I was worried.”   
  
Something felt...off. He’d felt it earlier when it had just been her and Scott in the room, but it was almost stronger now that it was just the two of them there. Something wasn’t right and he didn’t like not knowing what it was.   
  
Stiles squeezed her hand, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t have been,” he said sincerely. “My dad and Scott’s mom and Scott all love you.” Maybe not as much as _Stiles_ did, but that was another conversation for another time, one day in about fifteen years. Maybe. “I’m sorry for worrying you.” He looked down at their hands for a moment. “Sit with me?”   
  
Lydia didn’t even hesitate. She sat down beside him immediately. “You don’t need to apologize, people worry about their friends.” She commented with a small smile. Lydia worried about Scott and Allison even though she hadn’t talked to her in a while, which she’d rectify soon. She had even started worrying about Derek. Which albeit was odd, but he’d been good to them and Lydia had a feeling that Derek probably felt a lot like she did when it came to not having people around who cared, present company excluded.   
  
Lydia shifted again, “Would you mind if I lay with you?” She asked quietly not looking at him. She could feel worry stir inside of him and she finally glanced up, “Everything’s okay, I’m just a little tired and you’re my favorite pillow remember?” She joked, smiling slightly.   
  
Stiles shifted in the bed without hesitation, making room for her to lie down beside him. “You sure that’s it? Because it seems like there’s something bothering you, Lydia.”   
  
Lydia lifted her legs onto the bed carefully shifting towards Stiles on her side, not wanting to hurt him. She rested her head beside his and placed a hesitant hand on his chest, her dress shifting with her movements. Lydia didn’t want to lie to Stiles, but at the same time this wasn’t about her. He had been through so much in the past month and she wanted to make sure she was there for him. Lydia didn’t want to give him anything else to worry about.   
  
“I was just having a bad day,” she told him carefully, “I haven’t been sleeping well and stuff.” She shrugged shifting closer to him until she could feel his body against hers. “I’m not hurting you am I?” She asked worried.   
  
Stiles shifted onto his side so he was facing her, sliding an arm around her waist and resting his head against hers. “No, you’re fine,” he assured her, reaching up and tucking some hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry you’re not sleeping well. What can I do?”   
  
Lydia let her eyes close, her body relaxing into Stiles, “You’re doing it,” she admitted. Lydia hadn’t realized how much of a rock Stiles had been for her over the past year or how much she’d come to depend on that until it was gone when the Nogitsune had taken him over. And for the first time in a long time she felt like she had him back, but she was terrified to lean too hard on him.   
  
Stiles still had so many things to deal with and she wanted to be his rock...or one of them. Lydia swallowed hard as her hand curled into his t-shirt, Scott had brought him clothes on the second day in the hospital knowing he’d be there for a while. “It’s nice that Scott and Ms. McCall are going to be staying with you for a bit. You guys make a sweet family,” Lydia said keeping her eyes closed.   
  
He watched her as she closed her eyes, relaxing as she did, almost instinctively. He wasn’t sure how just lying there with him was all that soothing considering how high strung he usually was, but he wasn’t going to protest. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, closing his own eyes for a few seconds before opening them again at her words. Whether or not Scott’s mom and his dad ever actually wound up getting together didn’t matter that much in terms of them all being his family. They’d been that for his whole life.   
  
But there was something tugging at him still. She was sad about something. “You’re part of it. You know that right?”   
  
Lydia smiled without opening her eyes. Stiles was always trying to include her and she appreciated that more than he probably knew. “I’m not, but that’s okay.” She said casually. “I think it’s really nice that you and Scott have such a close connection, your families too. I see you two and,” she paused, “It makes me miss Allison. I need to talk to her this week...I will.” Lydia said firmly.   
  
She and Allison might not be as close as Scott and Stiles, but Allison was the closest thing she’d ever had to a best friend, which only seemed to make her feel worse for not speaking to her all this time. Despite her night at the hospital with Isaac that was the closest she’d gotten to either of them since what happened.   
  
“Lydia. Look at me.” His voice was quiet, but firm and he lifted his head so he could look at her. He needed her to look at him so that she could understand what he was about to tell her was the truth. “Please.”   
  
Lydia kept her eyes closed for a minute trying to work her way through her frayed emotions and shove them all back in their separate boxes where they should be. Her eyes fluttered open a minute later and she held his gaze while arching an eyebrow at Stiles in question.   
  
“Whether you believe it or not, you _are_ part of this family.” Not like Scott was, because Scott was his brother and his feelings for Lydia weren’t sibling-like in the least. But he knew Scott cared for her, knew that his dad loved her even if he hadn’t verbalized it. “And we’re all here if you need anything.” He reached down and laced their fingers together.   
  
Lydia’s chest tightened at Stiles’ words and she felt her eyes moisten. She wondered for about the hundredth time when she’d gotten so emotional. She never used to be so open with her emotions and yet, the past month she’d been a wreck practically for everyone to see. Lydia had broken down crying in front of Stiles more than once and that just wasn’t like her. She guarded her feelings and hid away her emotions so deep that sometimes it was hard letting them back out again.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard. She could feel the truth of his words coming through whatever strange connection they had. Lydia could feel his need to comfort and protect her and it was the first time she didn’t mind opening herself up to what he was feeling. The first time she embraced it instead of trying to push it back.   
  
Lydia sucked in a sharp breath and flattened her palm against his chest, “Thank you,” she said genuinely, “I’m here too, for you.” She said wishing she could just pour her feelings into him the same way he probably didn’t realize he was even doing to her. “I wish you could feel what I feel right now.” she whispered.   
  
Stiles started a little, eyes widening as he gazed at her. He felt a rush of emotions that were intense but didn’t feel like his own either, which meant that...he was feeling hers. “Lyds, I think that -- I am, actually.” He felt a little disoriented and dizzy, actually. Did that mean she was disoriented and dizzy? What was happening? How was it happening?   
  
Lydia’s eyes widened and her heartbeat picked up speed. Her hand pressed against him, “What does it feel like?” She asked wondering if he could distinguish what she was feeling like she could separate his emotions...well some of them. Other she’s couldn’t really grasp at, they just felt warm and comforting.   
  
He drew in a breath, closing his eyes as he tried to pick through them. “Relief. A lot of relief. But...you’re sad, too. I don’t know what that’s…” He chewed his lower lip for a moment. “Some confusion and uncertainty.”   
  
Lydia bit her bottom lip, “Oh...those aren’t exactly warm and fuzzy emotions,” she joked, “Sorry.” She was silent for a minute, “I’m a little sad, but it’s not you,” she reassured him. “My emotions have been a bit off kilter lately, there’s so much going on in my head and I guess I’m having some trouble separating everything, but right now, what I feel from you...it’s good,” she whispered.   
  
Lydia brushed her thumb over Stiles chest “You feel...protective and warm and...there’s a lot there,” she told him patting his chest, “But at the moment it’s comforting.” She admitted honestly.   
  
“Lydia, you don’t need to apologize,” he said sincerely, reaching out and rubbing her arm. “Okay? I can handle it. Seriously.” He gazed at her with worry. “And...I’m glad it’s comforting. I know it hasn’t been much lately,” realizing now this was why Derek had told him he needed to calm his heart beat or he’d wind up with Scott and Lydia back at the hospital before he ever got the chance to Allison and Isaac.   
  
Lydia’s heart clenched at his words. Just the fact that he was worried about comforting her after everything he’d been through was so much more than she deserved. But she considered what he said about being able to handle things. She hesitated and let out a short breath, “My mom left,” she said quietly, “Took a teaching job in San Diego. She’s letting me stay at our house until graduation, so it’s just me and Prada now.” Lydia told him quietly.   
  
Stiles sat up a little, eyes widening. Was she kidding? Her mom had moved out and literally left her behind? In _Beacon Hills_ , town where everything that could go wrong, would go wrong? He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised, really, because he knew her parents weren’t really that involved in Lydia’s life, but the thought of his dad leaving _him_ behind made a sharp pain shoot through him. “ _Lydia._ God. I’m sorry.”   
  
Lydia felt the immediate shift in his emotions and she pressed her lips together. “It’s okay,” she glanced at him shifting up a little and urging him to lie back down with her hand. “Please be careful, you’re not a hundred percent yet and I don’t want you hurting yourself.” Lydia told him. “It’s really not that big of a deal, I mean she’s not home that much anyway and my dad is always traveling, which I guess is why he didn’t offer up his place for me to stay at.” Plus she knew that deep down he still resented the fact that she’d chosen to live with her mother when he’d originally wanted her to come with him.   
  
“I”m okay,” he assured her. She was the one he was worried about now. She couldn’t stay on her own. She wouldn’t be safe. Also she wasn’t even legally an adult yet. He was already thinking of the guest room at home. Other than recently, no one ever really used it. But he knew better than to invite her to _live_ with them until he’d talked to his dad first.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “You’ve got your plotting face.” She commented lightly before resting her head back again. “Don’t look so worried, everything is going to be okay now,” she told him before relaxing against him again. “Hey Stiles,” she said softly.   
  
“No plotting face,” he said innocently, laying his head back down, as well. “Yeah?”   
  
“Hold me for a little bit...okay?” Lydia asked resting against him again.   
  
A familiar pang of emotion tugged at him and he held his breath before wrapping his arm around her. He swallowed hard, laying his head against hers and closing his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles was sitting on the edge of what was soon to not be his hospital bed anymore, and he was pretty damn happy about that. One foot was bouncing on the floor, excess energy that he had from multiple nights of actual quality sleep. His dad and Scott’s mom had gone down to the nurse’s station to finish going over all his discharge instructions and sign all the paperwork. He knew that usually took awhile, but he’d gotten up and changed into the clothes his dad had brought him -- just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but still better than a hospital gown by a long shot.   
  
The bruises and swelling in his face had begun to fade, though it was still pretty obvious to any casual observer that he’d gotten his ass royally kicked. The other bruises and injuries -- those were going to take longer. They’d told him not to expect to play lacrosse for the rest of the season, which was disappointing but not surprising. Apparently trying to play a contact sport with broken ribs was potentially really bad and considering it hurt anytime he moved the wrong way even without someone tackling him, he wasn’t going to try and argue that.   
  
There were other ways he had to keep busy anyway. He was still behind on homework, though he’d written two of the papers he’d had to do when Scott had brought him his laptop, and written and sold one college paper online -- $100 for a four page paper on the evolution of sign language over the years wasn’t anything to turn his nose up at, that was for sure. And all in one day while Scott and Lydia were at school, and Derek sitting at his bedside reading a worn out copy of _War and Peace._ The guy was full of surprises, really.   
  
He still had a week off from school to go and he suspected it was going to be a boring one considering everyone he knew was going to be _in_ school and his dad was going to have to be working because things around town still weren’t quite back to normal yet. Familiar guilt began to bubble up with him, but he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and pushing it down as far as he could, not wanting Lydia and Scott to feel it.   
  
When he opened his eyes he saw Scott standing in the door and instantly some of his anxiety faded. “Hey.”   
  
Scott smiled at his best friend, the brief hint of anxiety that had started to make itself known in his chest dissipating within seconds. “Hey, man.” He stepped into the room walking over to the bed and pausing in front of Stiles. Scott was glad his friend was finally coming home. He hated that Stiles was stuck in the hospital, but now at least he’d be stuck at home and they could come by after school and do homework together.   
  
“Excited about heading home?” He asked with a grin. Things were finally starting to get back to normal and Scott was glad. He and Lydia had even had a very awkward lunch with Isaac and Allison the other day. It was strained and none of them knew where they stood with each other, but at least it was a start. Scott had even seen Kira. Apparently she and her family had gone away to deal with some personal stuff...most likely what Kira had done to help save Stiles. They didn’t have a chance to talk yet, but she had text him making plans for tomorrow and Scott was looking forward to it.   
  
Stiles nodded. “Hell yeah.” He wasn’t exactly fond of hospitals. He had a long history of feeling the opposite of fondness for hospitals, actually. He smiled back at Scott. “You guys are still gonna stay for a couple days, right?” He rubbed the back of his neck and shifted to make room for Scott on the edge of the bed beside him. “My dad’s just going over all the discharge stuff with your mom and then we’re getting out of here.” He wouldn’t miss the plain pale yellow walls in the least.   
  
Scott plopped down on the bed beside Stiles. “We’re absolutely still coming, I think mom already dropped our stuff off at your house this morning,” he told his friend with a grin. “I’m thinking pizza and video games tonight, what do you think?” He asked. It would be nice to do something normal for once.   
  
“That...pretty much sounds fantastic. No more TV. I’m sick of TV. Video games are definitely a step up.” He paused. “Not Call of Duty, okay?” He didn’t want to play anything where he had to shoot people, even the zombie version. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to play it again. “Maybe Mario Kart?” He glanced at Scott sideways, hopeful.   
  
Scott reached out and rested his hand on his friends back, “Mario Kart sounds good. We’ll have a nice relaxing guy night. I think mom’s planning some big dinner too, in your honor of course.” He teased using his other hand to pat Stiles’ stomach. He was happy to see the smile on Stiles’ face, it had been a while since his friend had a happy expression on his face.   
  
Stiles relaxed at his best friend’s easy agreement to the less violent game, and shook his head at Scott’s comment about his mom’s cooking. He’d actually picked back up a couple of the pounds he’d lost in the last few weeks, while he’d been in the hospital. Then again, every time he looked up, someone was bringing him food. Not just hospital food, but pizza or tacos, or vending machine junk food. And he’d been keeping it down so that was an improvement. “What’s she making?”   
  
Scott dropped his hands and shook his head. “I don’t know, she said it was a surprise. I think after we get you home she’s going to run out to the grocery store. But she wouldn’t tell me.” He sighed and shook his head, but there was a smile on his face. Scott was quiet for a minute, “I got a text from Kira yesterday.” He said with a small grin as he glanced sideways at Stiles.   
  
“That sounds promising.” He raised his eyebrows, wondering what Ms. McCall was up to with dinner. Then Scott mentioned Kira and he couldn’t help but grin at the hint of excitement in his best friend’s voice. “And…?” he prodded, elbowing him lightly in the ribs.   
  
Scott chuckled, “And we’re getting together tomorrow after school. She hasn’t been there in a while, her dad either,” he explained realizing he hadn’t mentioned it. “Kira said something about going away with her parents and she’d explain more when she saw me…” he ran his hands over his knees, “So there’s that.” he commented with a grin.   
  
“Yeaaah. That’s my boy.” He grinned brightly, clapping Scott on the back proudly. He was momentarily confused about why Kira and her parents would have gone out of town and then he remembered that Kira’s powers were what had set a lot of what had happened into motion in the first place. Completely unintentionally, of course. Stiles didn’t blame her. How could he?   
  
Scott added, “Oh, and Lydia and I had lunch with Allison and Isaac yesterday...it was all kinds of painful,” he scratched the back of his neck, “But it’s a start I guess. Speaking of Isaac, he’s staying with the Argents while my mom and I stay with you guys so he’s not alone.” He told Stiles.   
  
Stiles grimaced a little at the mention of the painful lunch with Allison and Isaac. “Hey it’s the first step.” He was glad, albeit surprised, to hear that Isaac was staying with the Argent’s. Mostly because at the end of the day Chris Argent still wasn’t a fan of werewolves and...Isaac tended to sprout fur and claws on occasion.   
  
Scott laughed, “Yeah, first steps are good. I’m kind of surprised Chris is letting Isaac stay,” he commented, “But uh, I guess Isaac putting himself out there to save Allison...well I guess it was sort of a bonding thing for them or something.” Scott shrugged. “It’s good though, because now my mom and I can stay with you without feeling bad for leaving Isaac all alone. Mom doesn’t like leaving him out.” Scott told his friend as he reached up and ruffled his hair.   
  
“Yeah, that’s...weird, I was just kinda thinking the same thing.” He gave Scott a look. Not that it was all that surprising. He and Scott tended to be on the same wavelength about most things. He suddenly wondered what would happen if his dad and Scott’s mom ended up getting together. They had a guest room, but Lydia was going to be needing it, and while he hadn’t talked to his dad about that yet, he couldn’t see the sheriff saying no at this point. Not after everything that had happened. Not after Lydia had literally saved Stiles’ life.   
  
“Was Derek here today?” Scott asked finally noticing the other man’s absence, though with the sheriff and his mom there that wasn’t really surprising.   
  
“Yeah, he was here earlier. When Dad showed up, he decided to take off.” He shrugged. “It’s kinda weird. He’s been here every day. And I mean he didn’t even threaten me with physical violence except like, one time. That’s gotta be a record of some kind.”   
  
Scott was silent for a minute. “Derek is a good guy; he’s grown up a lot.” He said quietly, “You know, he’s really helped me out these past few weeks, Lydia too.” He hesitated, “I hope he realizes that no matter what he’s always got a place with us. Even when he’s no longer protecting you. I worry about him. He’s so isolated, but I think these past few weeks have been good for him.” Scott admitted. Derek had opened up a lot more than Scott ever expected him too.   
  
He protected Stiles with no regard to his own life, he’d helped Lydia on more than one occasion and even now, he’d seen the way the older wolf let her lean on him when she needed even if it wasn’t always obvious to everyone else. And Derek never said a word about it. His loyalty to Scott and even Stiles was something that he’d never forget.   
  
Stiles watched Scott for a moment, nodding slightly. “I know,” he said quietly, voice growing serious. He still remembered how Derek had been there the night he’d been begging Chris Argent to kill him. How he and Scott had managed to keep that from actually happening. He looked down at the floor. He knew Derek had been there for Scott when Stiles couldn’t be. When Stiles hadn’t been himself. It meant a lot to Stiles, too.   
  
“Maybe we should invite him over for Mario Kart,” he said uncertainly. He wasn’t sure Derek would even know what to do with a video game, honestly, but he didn’t want the guy to feel left out. Not after everything.   
  
Scott grinned, “I’m not sure Derek’s really the Mario Kart kind of guy, but we can ask. Let’s do it for another night though.” He rested his hand on Stiles shoulder, “I’m sort of looking forward to us spending some time together. Things have been so crazy we haven’t gotten much time to ourselves.” Scott admitted and maybe that was selfish of him, but it was just a few hours.   
  
Stiles relaxed a little again. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to invite Derek, but he’d been looking forward to it just being him and Scott for awhile, too. Like the old days, before things had gotten so much more complicated. “Yeah, that sounds good to me, too,” he admitted with a small smile, looking up at Scott.   
  
Scott returned the smile. It would be nice to spend some time alone with Stiles he wasn’t sure if Lydia was coming by later and he didn’t mind if she did. Scott had gotten used to her, but she seemed to be distancing herself a bit more lately, which was another thing that worried him. Technically it had just been yesterday and today, but it was still unusual.   
  
She had gone home yesterday instead of going to the hospital with him after school. And when he offered her a ride to the hospital today she had declined saying she didn’t want to intrude and to tell Stiles she said ‘hi’, Oh. “Lydia says hi, by the way,” he stated with a sheepish grin. “I meant to tell you that before.”   
  
Stiles started to comment about Lydia’s message when he heard footsteps near the door.   
  
Grinning because he figured it was going to be his dad coming back, he stilled at the sight of the man who stood there instead, tall and imposing in a suit, eyes already fixed on Stiles. Scott’s dad. Because why not? He thought, tensing as he straightened beside his best friend, fingers digging into the mattress beneath them just a little. “Lost?” he asked in a bored tone.   
  
Scott glanced up slowly tensing when he spotted his father. He straightened up, his eyes turning to slits, jaw clenching, “What are you doing here?” He asked his voice holding a hint of hardness to it.   
  
Rafael glanced between his son’s best friend and Scott. “I’m here to ask Stiles a few questions.” He said simply, annoyed by the tone his son was taking with him. He was used to Stilinski’s kid by now, but it bothered him that Scott held so much resentment towards him. He cleared his throat and slipped his hands into his pockets as he stepped towards the two teenagers. “Do you have a few minutes?”   
  
The moment Scott’s dad mentioned that he wanted to ask him questions; Stiles knew this wasn’t going to be good. He could literally think of nothing good that could come from this situation and he really wished the other man had just left town. Had just taken off the same way he’d returned -- slithering out like a snake, except Stiles liked snakes better than he liked his best friend’s biological father. And he had pretty good reasons.   
  
“Not really,” Stiles responded, arching his eyebrows and wishing his heart wasn’t suddenly beating much more quickly in his chest.   
  
Rafael sighed, “Well I wasn’t really asking,” even though he’d posed it as a question. “I need to know where you were a few weeks back when the asylum burned to the ground. Several witnesses said they saw you walking out of the fire.” He told Stiles with an arched eyebrow.   
  
Scott stiffened beside his best friend and he felt a familiar anger stirring inside of him, “Are you accusing him of something?” Scott asked his voice deeper than normal as he glared at his father. Technically he couldn't even be called that, not really anyway.   
  
Rafael glanced at Scott letting his hands slip from his pockets, “I’m doing my job Scott.”   
  
Stiles heard something in Scott’s voice, a warning that Rafael clearly didn’t recognize, but Stiles sure as hell did. He reached out and put a hand on his arm wordlessly, willing him to stay calm. To keep his cool. He didn’t want to think about what would wind up happening if Scott wolfed out in front of his dad.   
  
“I don’t know. What day of the week was it?” Stiles responded evenly, even as guilt flooded him. A girl had _died_ in that fire. A fire he had lit. Who even knew how many other people had been hurt? Who’d nearly died? Fortunately for his own sake -- or not in a lot of cases -- Stiles had one hell of a poker face.   
  
Rafael pursed his lips, “Look, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. I’ve got two people dead, 15 injured and I need to figure out what happened that night.” He said his voice hard. “I don’t want to have to bring you down to the station. Answer my question.” He said his voice hardening, “Where were you that night?”   
  
Scott’s chest tightened his airway constricting. He could literally feel the guilt burning in his chest, but it wasn’t his. He swallowed hard even more angry at his gene donor for making Stiles feel bad just when he was getting back on track. This wasn’t good and if he was feeling it this strongly, Scott knew it was probably worse for Lydia.   
  
Two people had died. Fifteen injured. Well that answered that question, except Stiles wished now that he hadn’t found out the answer at all. What was he supposed to _do?_ He held his breath for a few seconds, pushing all of his emotions out as best as he could. Shoving them as far down in his stomach as they could possibly go. He let go of Scott’s arm, regarding Rafael with a neutral expression.   
  
“I know that you’re not allowed to question me without my dad here because I’m a minor,” he informed him. “Surprise, my dad’s in law enforcement, too.” God he hated Scott’s dad. “Weird how he taught me stuff like that, huh?” he said coolly.   
  
Rafael’s jaw clenched, “I didn’t think you’d want to worry your dad by letting him know you were a suspect in not only an arson case, but homicide as well.” He commented. “But if that’s the way you want me to do it, I can go through the official channels and have everyone involved.” He threatened.   
  
Scott’s gaze zeroed in on his father and he stood very slowly, his hands clenching at his sides as they balled into fists. “You need to leave, now.” Scott was getting angry and he was starting to feel the urge to shift.   
  
The hospital room door opened in that moment and Michael and Melissa walked inside. “Alright boys, time to get you home.” She said her words fading when she spotted Rafael standing a few feet from the kids.   
  
When Scott stood up, Stiles did, too, sticking right next to him in case he needed to pull him back from doing something he’d regret later. He felt both a sense of relief and a sense of dread when his dad and Scott’s mom walked back in. He didn’t want anyone else caught up in the middle of this mess, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to clean it up, either. He hadn’t been expecting this -- though he probably should have -- and he needed time to think. He was good with wit and he was smart, but facing Scott’s dad on spur of the moment’s notice and trying to figure out what to say to defend himself against charges he was guilty of? That was even beyond his capabilities. He was fighting the growing sense of dread and panic as hard as he could because that wasn’t going to help anyone, and dammit, he really needed to talk to Deaton to figure out how to close this connection thing down.   
  
“Home sounds good. Let’s go home,” Stiles said, heart still beating too quickly.   
  
Melissa and Michael both frowned, but it was Michael who spoke first. “What are you doing in here?” he asked his gaze going to the boys, “You boys alright?” He asked noticing how tense they both looked. He even thought he saw a flash of red in Scott’s eye.   
  
Rafael turned around and glared at Michael his gaze shifting between his ex-wife and the town's sheriff. “I’d say it’s a surprise to see you two together, but really it’s not.” His gaze shifted to Stilinski, “Of course they’re alright, I only came here to ask a few simple questions.” He told them.   
  
Stiles nodded at his dad’s question, even though he wasn’t feeling as alright as he had been moments before Rafael McCall had shown up. “Yeah, we’re fine, Dad.”   
  
Melissa took one look at her son and knew that he was anything but fine right now. And neither was Stiles. She folded her arms across her chest, pinning her ex-husband with a dangerous glare. “A few simple questions about what?”   
  
Rafael sighed, “I need to know where Stiles was the night the asylum burned down.” He said glancing at Stilinski, “Several eye witnesses saw your son fleeing from the fire.” He said matter-of-factly.   
  
“Those people are wrong,” Scott said the menace in his voice getting clearer as anger clouded the rational part of his brain. He felt a sharp poke in his hand and knew his claws were coming out and pressing right into his skin, but Scott didn’t care. He had no right, no right to come here out of nowhere making accusations, using his _key_ to come into _Scott’s_ home. Threatening to get the sheriff fired, now going after his best friend? Scott wasn’t having it.   
  
Stiles reached out, fingers wrapping around Scott’s wrist with a firm grip. _Calm down, Scottie,_ he thought, willing his friend to remain calm.   
  
“Stiles was at home that night. _Sleeping_ ,” Sheriff Stilinski said with a hint of warning as he stared hard at Rafael. “And the next time you feel compelled to ask my under-age son questions regarding a crime, you damn well better make sure you come through me first, because if you don’t? You and I are going to have a bigger problem than the one that we already have. Am I making myself perfectly clear, _Agent_ McCall?”   
  
Rafael stared hard at Michael Stilinski, “I don’t believe you,” he said simply, “And since you're his father you don’t make a reliable alibi. What father would turn their own kid in?” He asked finally pulling his hands free from his pockets, his gaze briefly going to Melissa before looking back at Michael.   
  
“Probably you,” Scott spat. “I don’t know why you keep insisting on pushing yourself into my life or my friends lives, but Stiles didn’t do anything wrong. Why don’t you go check your sources because it wasn’t Stiles they saw. Now get out!” His voice felt like it echoed through his body and had Rafael McCall been looking at his son in that moment he would have seen the way his eyes flashed red. But he didn’t turn around until after Scott yelled.   
  
“I know you think you can talk to me like that, but you can’t. I’m still your father Scott.” He shook his head wondering when things had gone so downhill in their relationship that his own son held such animosity towards him.   
  
Michael stared at the back of Raphael's head. “It’s a good enough alibi when it’s the truth,” he said his voice quiet, but angry.   
  
Stiles felt his own anger rise to the surface when Scott’s did, felt it rise even more at the fact that his father was now having to lie for him. “My dad’s been more of a father to Scott then you _ever_ were,” he said, voice quieter than his dad’s, but just as angry. “You were a shitty husband, and a shitty father and you always will be.”   
  
Rafael glared at the teenagers in front of him and took a step towards Stiles, but Scott was in front of him in a flash and confusion filled his gaze. But he barely had a second to think about it as his sons hand shot out and shoved him so hard he flew clear across the room, his back colliding with the wall. He swore and winced as he tried getting up.   
  
A slow growl started in the depths of Scott’s throat and though, it wasn’t loud enough to reach his father _yet_. But the angrier he got the more dominate the wolf inside of him became. “Do not touch my family.” He said his voice dangerously low.   
  
Michael glanced at Melissa and then looked at Scott, holding a hand up to get his attention, “Son, I think you need to calm down, take a deep breath Scott, and let it out slowly,” he said as he took a step towards Scott and Stiles.   
  
Stiles had held his breath when Scott shoved his father across the room. He forced himself to take a deep breath when his dad told Scott to, too, knowing that Scott could feel the force of his own anger combined with his own and that wasn’t helping. “Come on, Scottie. Take a step back,” he whispered. He squeezed Scott’s arm. “Come on.”   
  
Melissa looked at her son with concern before turning her gaze to Rafael. “You can ask your questions another time. You need to go _now_.” There was no room for discussion in her tone as she helped Michael block the view between Scott and Stiles from her ex.   
  
Rafael finally pushed himself up and glanced at his ex-wife like she had two heads. “What the hell is going on here? That’s the second time I’ve seen Scott lose his temper like that Melissa. What the hell is wrong with our son? Is he on something?” He asked glancing in the direction of Scott and Stiles.   
  
Michael turned to face him, “Melissa’s right, you need to go now. We’ll come into the station at a later date so you can ask Stiles whatever questions you need to, but the answers aren’t going to change.” He said his voice hard as he placed a hand at the small of Melissa’s back, the sounds of Scott trying to calm himself down getting louder in the background.   
  
“Scott. Stay with me,” Stiles murmured, his voice barely audible. “Come on buddy. Deep breaths.”   
  
Melissa glared at Rafael. “Maybe our son is as sick of dealing with you walking in and pretending you still run the show when you haven’t been around for the last six years of his life as I am. It’s time for you to back off. He’s old enough to decide whether or not he wants you in his life and he clearly doesn’t. That’s your fault. Not his.”   
  
Scott could hear his mother yelling and he felt his face shift. He dropped down in a crouch, his heart beating fast as the sheriff shifted so he was standing in front of him. He placed his hands against his head as a few more angry words were exchanged before his father said things weren’t over and left the room, the door slamming echoing in his head.   
  
He hadn’t lost control like this in a long time, but between his own anger and Stiles anger and then the hint of panic he felt from Lydia most likely because Stiles was so angry...it was all too much driving him to protect the people he cared about. “I can’t breathe,” he got out a low growl slipping from his lips as he dug his claws into his palms drawing blood and collapsing to his knees, his brows furrowing. “Shit.” he mumbled suddenly incredibly emotionally drained.   
  
Stiles dropped down instantly when Scott did, wrapping his arm around his best friend’s shoulders and wincing as he watched Scott claw his palms into shreds, blood dripping all over the floor. God, he was making this so much worse. He forced himself to close his eyes, tamping down on the anger until there was literally nothing left but a wave of tiredness and he didn’t think it was his. Things just kept getting more complicated. He swallowed hard, looking up at his dad and Melissa guiltily.   
  
Melissa moved to kneel down in front of her son, taking his face in her hands, worried eyes locked on his. “Focus, Scott,” she whispered.   
  
Scott focused on his mother’s voice and the feel of Stiles holding onto him. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. His breathing was shaky for a minute before he swallowed hard, his eyes going back to normal and his claws retracting. Scott grunted his chest tight as guilt blossomed there. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.   
  
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Stiles said instantly. “Not a damn thing. He knows how to push everyone’s buttons.”   
  
“It’s okay now, Scott,” Melissa said soothingly, pressing her lips to his forehead in a kiss before pulling away to look at him. She looked up at Michael with troubled eyes.   
  
Michael walked over and placed a hand on Scott’s back and the other on Stiles’ back. “Come on, let’s get you boys home. It looks like you could both use a relaxing afternoon,” plus he needed to talk to Melissa without them around. If McCall knew about the asylum it wouldn’t be long before he started putting it all together. They needed a plan and fast.   
  
Scott just nodded at the sheriff’s words as he squeezed his mom’s arm gently letting her know he was okay, the same with Stiles.   
  
Melissa rose to her feet, reaching down to help both boys to theirs, as well.   
  
Stiles exhaled slowly, not looking at his dad as he lifted his hand to his mouth, chewing on his thumbnail. He just wanted to go home and hang out with his best friend for a little while before the next crisis hit.   
  
Apparently it was now too late for that. Because the last one still wasn’t finished wrecking everything yet.   


______

  
  
Lydia glanced at Derek out of the corner of her eye as they moved towards Peter’s apartment. She was nervous and not just because she wasn’t sure what to expect with the oldest Hale. She had butterflies in her stomach and she couldn’t stop thinking about the large bouts of anger and guilt that had been coming from Stiles not long ago.   
  
Lydia pursed her lips. “Maybe we should do this a different day and I should go check on Stiles,” she said not able to entirely hide the nervousness building inside of her.   
  
“Lydia, we’re already here,” he said as gently as he ever spoke. “I know you’re scared, but I’m not going to let him hurt you. Stiles is okay. He’s getting out of the hospital right now, remember?”   
  
Lydia knew he was getting out of the hospital. It was one of the reasons she decided to do this today because she knew both Scott and Stiles would be busy. She nodded, “Right, of course.” She shifted on her feet in front of the door. “Does he know we’re here?” She asked in a whisper.   
  
“Probably,” Derek confirmed, reaching out and knocking loudly on his uncle’s door.   
  
There was a noise behind the door before it slid open slowly revealing Peter leaning in the doorway. He arched an eyebrow. “Why Derek, you brought me a gift, how sweet.” He said with a smirk, “And I thought you were still mad at me for that little mishap with the hunters,” he commented lightly as his eyes fell to Lydia, a gleam in them.   
  
Lydia glared at Peter and then rolled her eyes.   
  
Derek narrowed his eyes at Peter, reaching out and shoving the door open the rest of the way, forcing the older man backwards and leading Lydia inside the apartment. “She has questions. She’s gonna ask them. You’re gonna answer. Try anything and I won’t make the same mistake I did the last time.” He folded his arms across his chest.   
  
Peter stumbled back a few paces and glared at his nephew a sigh leaving his throat at Derek’s words. “I seem to recall a certain redhead helping me out with that problem last time,” his gaze slide to Lydia and he winked, “Thanks for that darlin’.”   
  
“Yeah, well this time your body will be in too many pieces for you to use someone to resurrect yourself,” Derek said flatly, without a hint of joking in his voice.   
  
Lydia pursed her lips. “Not by choice.” She said as she flipped her hair over her shoulder forcing her heartbeat to stay steady. Not wanting to give Peter the satisfaction of knowing he unnerved her. She just kept reminding herself that Derek was there and he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. “I want to know what you know about me.” She said matter-of-factly.   
  
A slow smirk slid onto Peter’s lips. “Has the little banshee finally come for answers?” He asked taking a step towards her.   
  
Derek was more than a little impressed with Lydia’s ability to keep her cool and a smirk tugged at his mouth at her tone. But his eyes narrowed at his uncle as soon as he spoke in _that_ tone, lecherous and smarmy. He reached out, stopping Peter from getting any closer to the redhead.   
  
Peter had ignored Derek’s words up to the point where his nephew stopped him from getting closer to Lydia. He turned his gaze on Derek and arched an eyebrow. “Awfully protective aren’t we,” he observed before glancing back at Lydia.   
  
“I haven’t seen my nephew so protective in a while at least not without some motivation,” he said leering at Lydia. Peter chuckled when she made a face. “How does your little lover boy feel about your new close and personal relationship with my nephew?” He taunted.   
  
Lydia rolled her eyes, “Wow you really like hearing yourself talk don’t you?” She asked with a sigh, “Derek is my friend and who I get up close and personal with definitely isn’t your business.” She said keeping her tone bored, “And I don’t even know what you’re talking about with this lover boy nonsense.”   
  
Despite the fact that he was extremely annoyed by his uncle’s insinuations, he almost rolled his eyes at Lydia’s denial. She was as bad as Stiles when it came to missing things that were pretty obvious to the rest of them. Even Peter, apparently.   
  
“Take a step back,” Derek warned his uncle, locking his eyes with the older man.   
  
Peter rolled his eyes and held up his hands, “So dramatic,” he said as he took a step back. “I’m not going to hurt her, I mean I did have a hand in making her what she is.” He glanced at Lydia again. “If I wanted you dead I would have done it that night on the lacrosse field. Then again I did promise Stiles I wouldn’t hurt you if he helped me find Derek and I’m nothing if not a man of my word.” He said with a grin.   
  
Lydia was about to tell Peter to get back on topic when he mentioned Stiles. She paused, hesitating, “What are you talking about?” She asked confused.   
  
Peter’s grin widened, “Oh, you mean Stiles never told you?” He shifted taking a few steps back as he spoke. “He’s the one who saved you on the field that night.” Peter turned back around so he was facing Lydia. “Even offered his life for yours. I knew you wouldn’t die from the bite...but he didn’t so I used his feelings for you to help me.” He explained, “Pretty clever huh?”   
  
“More like pathetic,” she said while trying to process the information Peter had just given her. Even then Stiles was trying to protect her. Her heart clenched slightly and she suddenly had an overwhelming urge to go see Stiles and ask him about it. But there would be time for that later. “Tell me what I want to know,” Lydia demanded finally.   
  
Peter smirked, “Feisty, I like it.” He started walking further into the apartment and going over to a small table grabbing a canister before turning back to her. “I’ll tell you what little banshee. You help me and I’ll help you. If you give me what I want I’ll give you the answers you seek.” He said with a grin.   
  
Derek narrowed his eyes at his uncle, not even a little bit impressed by his uncle’s dramatics. Or the fact that he’d played Stiles so long ago. Or the fact that he was playing Lydia now, both by toying with her emotions and dangling answers in front of her to get what _he_ wanted. He looked at Lydia sideways. “You don’t have to do anything here. We can find answers somewhere else,” he reminded her.   
  
Lydia was torn. She pressed her lips together. “I want my answers first. You tell me what I want to know and I will help you with _one_ thing and it can’t involve anything that would hurt someone I care about directly or indirectly.” She said voice calm, “If you agree to my terms, then we have a deal.” Lydia told him eyeing Peter warily. She knew Derek was right, but they were already there and she needed to know how to control what was happening to her...because at this point everything else in her life was out of control and this...Lydia needed this.   
  
Peter placed the canister down on the coffee table and leaned against the arm of his couch. His apartment was nothing like Derek’s. It was meticulously clean and professionally decorated. Definitely not a place Lydia would have thought to look for him and yet somehow so essentially Peter.   
  
Peter nodded to her, “Well then, let’s have your questions.” He said motioning for her to take the floor.   
  
Lydia hesitated, “I’m doing more than screaming now.” She told him, “I’m hearing things...feeling them in my head and, physically.” She said feeling slightly uncomfortable admitting it all out loud since she hadn’t talked about it with anyone else, except for Stiles a little bit.   
  
“A while back I think my...abilities were trying to warn me that something was coming,” the Nogitsune, her mind provided, “But I couldn’t understand the message it was sending until it was too late. I didn’t know what it meant and I need to know how to listen to the voices. I need to know how to understand it.” Lydia swallowed hard as Peter studied her.   
  
“Do you know where your abilities come from?” He asked her pushing away from the couch and stepping towards her. “The voices?” He inquired, “They stem from others like yourself. Other banshees. And your scream isn’t where you real power lies. The scream clears the fog and helps you focus on what you _need_ to hear.” Peter told her as he stopped a few feet in front of her.   
  
Lydia swallowed heavily, “What does that mean? I screamed last time and it didn’t help me understand what they were saying...I missed the signs.” She said her voice hard.   
  
Peter arched an eyebrow at the tone of her voice. Something specific had obviously happened to upset her and he couldn't help the curiosity that flowed through him. “Your hearing is attuned to a level of the universe that no one else can hear, but only if you’re listening. You need to focus on the right thing. The more you use your powers the stronger they’ll get.” He said with a sigh. “Tell me about these feelings.” He said.   
  
Lydia shifted on her feet, “I’m feeling someone else’s...emotions and sometimes they get so overwhelming that it’s painful or I pass out from the overload of emotions,” Lydia shrugged stiffly.   
  
Curiosity filled Peter’s gaze, “Who is it?”   
  
Lydia hesitated again glancing briefly at Derek not sure if she should tell Peter who it was.   
  
“Irrelevant,” Derek informed his uncle, arching an eyebrow. “All you need to know is that it’s happening. So if you want to know something about my mother and you want Lydia’s help, quit stalling.” He was rapidly losing his patience for the older Hale.   
  
Peter glared at Derek, “Incorrect as usual,” he turned back to Lydia. “Banshee’s are special and rare nowadays. When there were more of them they used to choose a pack to be affiliated with and essentially be a member of that pack which would connect them to the alpha. Sort of like an emotional bond in case pack members went missing or were in danger. It was an early warning system of sorts,” He explained to both of them.   
  
“There are very few people who have the ability to share in what Lydia hears or feels. The only other connection I’ve heard of is to emissaries. A few banshee’s have been known to have a connection to them, but I’ve never heard of it developing this deep unless,” Peter paused, “Unless there was something else to it. Something that solidified the connection between them and created a bond or a link that allowed their emotions to share a space safely.”   
  
Lydia frowned, “What kind of connection? And this doesn’t tell me how to control it or why the feelings are getting stronger.”   
  
Peter huffed, “You’re asking for a lot here, I think I should get more than one favor out of this.”   
  
Lydia stiffened and crossed her arms over her chest, “You haven’t even held up your end of the deal with this one. No answer me or you get nothing.”   
  
Peter clenched his jaw. “You can’t control it because instead of embracing what you hear you’re trying to stop it. You’re trying to push it aside and drown it out, but what you need to do is immerse yourself in it and once you can do that and focus you’ll be able to understand it. But that takes time and practice,” He practically ground out.   
  
“And the emotions are overwhelming you because whoever you’re connected with, you’re blocking them out. In order to have an exchange of emotions they have to go both ways. Through you and the other person. Right now it’s all just going to you. Your’s, their’s and as you get deeper involved with the pack, Scott’s. You’ll have the combined emotions of everyone inside that small fragile body of yours and that’s enough to drive a person insane if you don’t figure out how to open that link up on your side to release the emotions.”   
  
Lydia’s chest tightened and her stomach clenched at his words. She opened her mouth, but Peter held up a hand as he grabbed the container. “It’s my turn now banshee. Get over here.” He nearly growled as he twisted the container open and dumped the nails on the table.   
  
Lydia glanced from him to the nails before taking a step forward. “What am I supposed to do with these?” She asked reaching forward and lifting the claws from the table into her hands.   
  
“My sister Talia, Derek’s mother,” he motioned towards his nephew, “took a memory from me. I want it back and you’re going to get it for me.”   
  
Lydia glanced up, “Why would she take a memory from you?” She asked as she rolled the nails around in her hand.   
  
Peter nearly rolled his eyes, “Well now if I had the memory maybe I could tell you. No more questions. Focus.” He said as he watched her.   
  
Lydia glanced away from Peter and at Derek briefly before she focused on the nails. Five minutes passed and nothing. She frowned. “I don’t hear anything.” She said quietly.   
  
“It’s only going to work if you’re listening,” Peter said frustration clear in his voice.   
  
“I’m trying,” she said stepping away from Peter and closer to Derek.   
  
“Try harder!” He snapped moving towards her.   
  
Derek’s eyes flashed in warning as he stepped in front of Peter, blocking his path with a murderous look on his face, a hand shooting out to catch his uncle around the neck. “Don’t,” he said darkly.   
  
Peter smirked, “Poor little Derek,” he said his voice strained, “Don’t want to lose one of the only friends you have,” he taunted, “I already said I wasn’t going to _kill_ the little banshee that could.” He said gripping his nephews arm and then shoving him back.   
  
Frustrated Lydia turned around, “Can you two stop,” she watched as Peter went to grab Derek, his claws out and she yelled, “Stop it!” while throwing her hand out, the force of her emotions making the nails sail through the air until they embedded themselves in the wall. And that’s when she heard it...the soft whispers.   
  
Peter’s eyes widened at the way the nails arched through the air and landed in the wall. He stepped away from Derek, nails retracting as he glanced at Lydia. His eyes brightened, “You hear something, don’t you.”   
  
Lydia ignored him and walked between him and Derek, her head tilting to the side as she moved closer to the wall. She focused on the voices as Peter demanded to know what they were saying in the background. She sucked in a sharp breath when the words finally came together.   
  
“What did Talia take from me?” He demanded.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard and turned around slowly. She glanced between Derek and Peter her chest tight, heartbeat picking up speed. “You’re not just an uncle.” She said softly.   
  
It took Peter a minute to process what she’d said and then he stepped forward. “Who is it?”   
  
Lydia shook her head, “I don’t know,” she said taking a step back.   
  
“Tell me,” Peter’s voice held the hint of a growl as Lydia continued to back up shaking her head. “I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s a girl or a boy, or if it’s some mutated wolf baby.” She was lying of course, but Peter didn’t need to know that.   
  
He glared at her, “You’re lying,” he jerked forward and grabbed her arms hard enough to leave a bruise. Lydia let out a startled noise, “Tell me what you know!”   
  
Derek had enough of Peter’s shit for a lifetime and seeing him grab Lydia was the last straw. He drew back his fist and hit him in the face so hard that blood splattered and he hit the floor hard. “I think we’re done here,” he informed Lydia, glaring down at his uncle. He reached out and gently took her by the arm, leading her out of the apartment. “You okay?” he asked, glancing at her sideways as they headed down the stairs of the apartment building, trying to rein in his anger.   
  
Lydia let out shaky breath and nodded her hand reaching up and rubbing her arm making her wince. It was already starting to bruise. “Yeah, I’m okay...thank you.” She said quietly. “Can he still hear us?” She asked her voice low, her heartbeat betraying just how not calm she was.   
  
He gave a short nod of his head, staying quiet until he’d led her out of the building and they were back in his car. He started the engine for extra noise before looking at her. “Peter has a kid?” There was a hint of disbelief in his voice.   
  
Lydia shifted in her seat not sure how Derek was going to take what she was about to tell him. Her heartbeat quickened in her chest and she hesitantly reached a hand out to him resting it on his arm. “Yes,” she said keeping her voice low. “Derek...it’s _Cora._ ” Lydia whispered.   
  
Derek stared at her blankly. “Peter’s kid is...Cora. My sister Cora.”   
  
Lydia nodded. “I guess technically she’s your cousin really but---Yes.” She cleared her throat and was silent for a minute, “Are you okay...can I...I mean.” Lydia let out a breath. She should know by now she was terrible at comforting people. But she couldn’t help wanting to try. Derek looked shocked and she felt terrible for having to break the news to him. Lydia squeezed his arm gently. “She doesn’t know...only your mom did. Cora’s mom died in childbirth and your mom...she took her, hid her identity from Peter to protect her.” She explained quietly.   
  
Derek laid his head back against the headrest for a long moment, trying to absorb that all into his brain. “She’s on her way back,” he said blankly. “Am I supposed to tell her that the guy she thought was her uncle for her entire life, who killed our -- my -- sister Laura is actually her _dad?_ ”   
  
Lydia was silent for a moment. “I think that if your mother went through all of this trouble to protect her, there had to be a reason. Peter can’t be trusted and who knows what he would do if he knew...I can’t tell you what to do. And it’s never easy keeping secrets from the people you love,” she said quietly her chest tightening, “But sometimes,” Lydia paused, “Sometimes the ends justifies the means. But if you think she can handle the truth without going to Peter…” Lydia’s words died down. “I felt fear.” she whispered, “She was afraid of something when she took the memories from him, I don’t know what.”   
  
Lydia kept her hand on his arm, trying to offer some kind of comfort, but not knowing if it was working. “I’m sorry that I didn’t get more.” She apologized. “I will say this, Peter being Cora’s biological father doesn’t change how you guys grew up or how you feel about her. She’ll always be your sister even if she’s not...Does that make sense?” Lydia asked making a face.   
  
She wasn’t wrong. Talia had not only been a wonderful mother, but she’d been a good alpha as well. She knew when there was something wrong with one of her pack, even if they tried to hide it. And obviously she’d hidden the truth about Cora’s identity for a reason. He had no doubt about that. And Peter wasn’t likely to ever win any father of the year awards even if he did tell Cora. The man was screwed up as it was even just being an uncle.   
  
No, Lydia was right. “You’re right.” He shifted slightly in the seat, shifting his Camaro into gear and pulling away from the apartment building. “If my mom was afraid of Peter finding out that Cora was his, she had a good reason.” He glanced at her sideways. “I’m not telling either one of them.”   
  
Lydia nodded and pulled her hand back. “Then you have my word I’ll never mention it again. This will be our secret.” She told him quietly. “I’ll take it to my grave.” She knew Peter wasn’t convinced that she didn’t know the truth, but she’d cross that bridge if it ever came. And even if he came to her for the information, she wouldn’t tell him. Lydia wouldn’t do that to Derek or even Cora despite the fact that they hadn’t exactly gotten along too well.   
  
“Thank you,” he said quietly, focusing on the road ahead. Because there was no use focusing on the one in the rearview.   
  
Lydia was silent for a minute as she glanced out the window at the darkening sky wondering how long they were at Peter’s. It was late. She should probably go home, but for some reason Lydia desperately wanted to see Stiles. “Derek, would you mind taking me to Stiles?” She asked quietly before biting her lower lip. “Actually forget it. If you wouldn’t mind dropping me off at home that would be great.”   
  
Derek glanced at her sideways, arching his eyebrows. “I think you had it right the first time,” he said knowingly. “Something was going on with him when we first got to Peter’s right?”   
  
Lydia hesitated, “Yeah,” she said quietly, “But it seems okay now. And...I don’t want to crowd him. I think he wanted to spend some time with Scott. I’ll be fine at home.” She said resting her hands on her skirt as she brushed dust that wasn’t on it off.   
  
“Okay I believe that you want to give Idiot Squared some time alone, but I don’t believe you really want to go home, either.”   
  
Lydia let a small chuckle fall from her mouth, not able to hide her smile at Derek’s description of Scott and Stiles. “Do not tell them I laughed at that...They’d be so offended.” She said with a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “There’s nowhere else to go...Plus there’s Prada, I shouldn’t leave her all alone.” Lydia said honestly.   
  
Derek smirked when she laughed. “My lips are sealed.” He considered for a minute. “You can hang out with me for awhile if you want.”   
  
Lydia blinked glancing at Derek surprised by the offer. And it occurred to her that maybe Derek didn’t want to be alone right now either. “Can I bring Prada?” She asked with a hopeful smile.   
  
Derek considered her question, then shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”   
  
Lydia smiled and glanced forward. “Thanks, Derek.” She said softly before shifting and settling into the seat letting herself relax as they drove towards her house to pick up Prada all the while Lydia was thinking how glad she was that Derek was in their lives.


	10. Chapter 10

He was at the Nemeton. He didn’t know how he’d gotten there. Didn’t remember even leaving his house. He’d been there with Scott and their parents playing video games all afternoon and evening until dinner and then after dinner the game-playing had resumed. He must have sleep walked. But he didn’t even remember falling asleep. He was barefoot in the woods but his feet didn’t hurt.   
  
_Oh. I’m dreaming,_ he thought, not that bothered by the idea. It felt like it had been awhile since Stiles had dreamt about anything at all. He couldn’t remember why. He watched in morbid fascination as thousands of fireflies began to fly up in the air from the cracks in the tree.   
  
That...wasn’t good. Yeah, that wasn’t good at all. He’d seen this before. The Oni were forming. His heart began to beat a little faster against his chest.   
  
_Just a dream,_ he tried to remind himself, but his dream-self had other ideas and took off at a dead run. He crashed through trees and bushes and various other debris that were in his way and by the time he made it out of the woods, there was blood all over him. He looked down at his hands, shaking as he saw the red stains all over them. Frantically, he wiped them on his pajama pants but when he looked again it was still there. A soft whimper escaped him and he tried again to rub them onto his pants, desperate to get rid of the stains. But something bright caught his eye in the distance and he looked up to see Eichen House.   
  
It was burning.   
  
“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no.”   
  
He ran toward the asylum, tears trickling down his face as he heard the screams from inside. Screams of _pain_. Fear.   
  
_Chaos,_ he heard Nogitsune whisper against his ear.   
  
Stiles wrapped his hands around the metal gates, tugging and trying to open them to no avail. “No. _NO!_ ” he screamed.   
  
_Yes,_ it whispered, voice pleased. _This was us, Stiiiiles._   
  
Stiles screamed.   
  
Scott was startled awake by the sound of a loud blood curdling scream. He blinked, his sleep addled brain trying to process what was happening as he noticed Stiles thrashing on the ground beside him.   
  
Scott reached out; wide awake now, his hands gripping his best friend’s body as he tried to get him to stop moving. “Stiles, STILES you’re dreaming wake up...WAKE UP!” Scott called loudly as he held his friends thrashing body against his own, the sound of his voice echoing through the entire house.   
  
His hands shot out, gripping tightly onto Scott’s arms as he gasped for breath, eyes flying open, looking around wildly. “ _Fire,_ ” he whispered, clearly only half-awake. “It’s on _fire_!”   
  
Fear gripped Scott, his stomach turning, “What’s on fire? Stiles wake up.” He glanced towards Stiles bedroom door, “Mom! Sheriff!” He continued holding onto his friend confused. He thought Stiles’ nightmares were over.   
  
The door to the bedroom flew open and the sheriff ran in going straight to Scott and Stiles, “What happened?” He asked, his chest tightening as he saw Stiles struggling in Scott’s arms. He bent down to the floor where the boys had fallen asleep earlier. He and Melissa had checked on them before bed and they’d been out cold game controllers still in their hands.   
  
“Stiles, son, it’s okay. Calm down, take a deep breath.” He said trying for a soothing voice.   
  
Melissa was right behind the sheriff, eyes wide open and filled with worry. She quickly turned on the light, wincing as she saw what was happening.   
  
It took him a full moment to orient himself to the fact that he was in his own bedroom, on the floor with Scott as his friend held him to keep him from hurting himself. He sucked in air and laid his head back on the floor, squeezing his eyes shut as he shuddered involuntarily. When Scott finally let him go he rubbed a hand over his eyes, wiping away the tears that he’d apparently been crying in his sleep.   
  
Michael swallowed hard and Melissa bent down. Scott shifted back when he saw his mom, his heart beating fast as panic filled his chest, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t his own. Scott’s hands clenched at his sides, heartbeat thumping loudly as he tried to regulate his breathing.   
  
Melissa cupped Stiles cheeks and brushed the tears away. “You’re okay honey, we’re here. Everything’s fine. Take a deep breath for me sweetheart and let it out slowly.” Her words were soft, calm and soothing.   
  
Michael and Scott watched Melissa as she tried to calm Stiles down.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not making any effort to get off the floor. He didn’t pull away from Melissa’s touch even as guilt took the place of the panic he’d been feeling. His chest felt so tight with it that he wondered how hard it would be to just reach inside his _own_ chest and yank his heart out. Like he’d done to Aidan. At least three people that he knew of for sure were dead because of him. Probably more. He didn’t know how many people had been killed in the explosion at the sheriff’s station.   
  
He’d nearly killed Isaac and Allison. Nearly killed Scott and his dad. It was all playing in an endless loop in his mind.   
  
Melissa frowned, “Honey it’s okay, you don’t need to be sorry.” She wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, but she had an idea and it made her heart clench.   
  
Michael pressed a hand to Melissa’s back, “Let’s get him in bed,” he said softly. He had wondered if his son’s nightmares would reappear once he was home and no longer medicated. He had hoped they wouldn’t, but apparently they couldn’t get that lucky.   
  
Scott watched them, pain filling his chest as they helped Stiles up. He shifted getting to his feet and standing on shaky legs. He could see how pale Stiles was and he could feel how torn up he was inside. These were probably the strongest emotions he’d felt from his best friend since this whole thing happened.   
  
Scott could feel something else stirring inside of him and he swallowed hard. “We need Lydia,” he said quietly. The only time Scott saw Stiles sleep peacefully was when she was with them.   
  
Stiles sank down onto the edge of the bed, body trembling involuntarily as he rested his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands as he struggled to pull himself together. He rubbed his eyes willing his emotions to just _shut down._ He used to be good at that. Right now it wasn’t so easy.   
  
“Call her,” Melissa agreed quietly, sitting down on one side of Stiles and rubbing his back gently and looking at Michael with worried eyes. “Stiles, sweetheart. Do you want to talk about it?”   
  
He shook his head wordlessly.   
  
Scott watched Stiles and he took a deep breath glancing around trying to figure out where he put his cell phone. He could still feel the swirl of emotions coming from Stiles. He heard his mom and Stiles’ dad talking softly to his best friend, but it was hard to focus over the unrelenting waves of guilt filling him.   
  
He spotted his phone on the floor near one of the bean bag chairs and he reached for it, hands shaking slightly as he scrolled through to find Lydia’s number.   
  
Lydia shifted in her sleep her brows creasing as her heartbeat picked up speed. She’d been sleeping peacefully up until a few minutes ago and then something happened. Her chest was tight and she shifted a soft noise falling from her lips as an image of Stiles covered in blood filled her head. _No, Stiles was okay now. This was wrong, Stiles was back, there was no more Nogitsune._ But then she saw his face and realized it wasn’t the Nogitsune at all...It was Stiles and he was shaking and then panic filled her chest. Her body thrashed against the blankets and seconds later she jerked against the couch screaming Stiles’ name, her body worked up as if she herself was having a panic attack.   
  
Derek jerked from where he lay in his bedroom, wide awake. Christ. What _now?_ he wondered, quickly moving to the main room where Lydia had fallen asleep on the couch. He’d thought about moving her but he hadn’t wanted to risk waking her up. Instead, he’d covered her up with blankets, which she was now literally thrashing around in, screaming Stiles’ name. “Lydia,” he said loudly, quickly moving to her side and wincing at how fast her heart was beating. Prada was cowering a few feet away, whining pitifully. “Lydia, wake up.”   
  
Her eyes flew open and she pressed a hand to her chest trying to suck in air as a rush of emotions filled her, guilt being the most prominent of them all. Her nails dug into the arm of the couch, confusion filling her face when she couldn’t pinpoint where she was right away. “Can’t breathe,” she gasped when her gaze finally landed on Derek the sound of her phone ringing in the background catching her ear.   
  
“Hey.” His voice was calm and he reached out, carefully taking her by the arms. “Look at me. Just focus on the sound of my voice, Lydia. You’re okay. Everything’s okay.” At least he hoped. If he had to guess, Stiles had just woken up from some kind of really bad nightmare and she’d felt it.   
  
Lydia closed her eyes, not even feeling the tears that had slipped down her cheeks as she took several deep breaths. It still felt like there was a heavy pressure sitting on her chest. “Stiles, it’s Stiles,” she breathed, “He needs me,” she said her heart still beating way too fast in her chest as her phone went off once again.   
  
Derek drew in a breath, reaching out and picking up her phone, handing it to her wordlessly, troubled expression on his face.   
  
Lydia pushed the button with shaky hands and brought it to her ear, “Hello?” her voice was strained when she spoke. “Lydia?” Scott’s voice was strained when he spoke, too. “Sorry to -- Stiles is…” He forced himself to take a deep breath. “He had a really bad nightmare and he’s not...doing very well. Do you think --”   
  
“I know,” Lydia swallowed hard realizing that Scott could feel it too, “I’m coming. I’ll be there soon…”   
  
Scott ran a hand through his hair, “Okay.” She sounded just as bad as he did which meant she must have somehow known about Stiles’ nightmare. “I’ll see you soon.”   
  
Lydia nodded, “Okay,” she repeated before hanging up. She took another deep breath and glanced up at Derek. “Sorry,” she dropped her feet to the ground, “Can you,” she paused, “Can you take me to Stiles, please?” She asked her voice wavering slightly.   
  
“You got it,” Derek said quietly, rising to his feet and holding his hand out to help her up. “Don’t forget Prada.”   
  
Lydia took his hand and stood on shaky legs as she glanced toward Prada who was hunched down near the leg of the couch. She nodded, bent over to grab her and lifted her into her arms before taking the bag with her books in it and pulling it over her shoulder. She swallowed hard, her heartbeat finally calming down a little, but still thudding faster than normal. “Ready,” she said quietly. Lydia reached out and placed her hand against Derek’s arm briefly. “Thank you.” she whispered.   
  
“You’re welcome.” His voice was still quiet as he led her out of his loft and down the steps, out the door to his car. He couldn’t help but wonder if this nightmare was ever going to end.   


______

  
  
Scott paced the hallway glancing out of the window in the front of the Stilinski house every couple of minutes. His mom and the sheriff had managed to calm Stiles down enough to drink some water, but he still wasn’t okay, far from it. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed glancing down at his phone getting ready to call Lydia again when he heard the sound of a car in front of the house. He moved to the door and pulled it open watching as Derek’s car came to a stop in front of Stiles’ house. Scott’s brows drew together briefly wondering what they were doing together, but the thought passed almost as quickly as it had come when he saw Lydia carrying Prada and moving to the house. Scott acknowledged Derek with a nod and a wave as he reached out for Lydia.   
  
“Where is he?” She asked softly as she heard Derek drive away and closed the door behind her.   
  
Scott rubbed a hand over his face. “He’s upstairs in his room. It’s bad, Lydia. I don’t know -- he woke up screaming about --” He paused, jaw tightening as he realized exactly what had caused this particular nightmare. “Son of a…”   
  
Lydia frowned when she saw Scott tense and she dropped her bag on the floor and held Prada closer to her as she motioned to the steps and starting walking towards them as she spoke. “What’s wrong? What did you just realize?” She asked while making her way up the steps.   
  
“What caused his nightmare,” he said tensely, digging his nails into the palms of his hands. He followed her up the stairs, forcing himself to take a deep breath to try and calm his aggravation.   
  
“Well? What is it?” She asked glancing over her shoulder at Scott as she stepped off the last stair and walked towards Stiles room, the glow from the light illuminating the hallway. “You okay?” She asked Scott noticing the tension in his body.   
  
“It’s my gene donor,” he said flatly. “He’s what caused this one. He came by the hospital before we took Stiles home.” He rubbed his forehead, knowing he needed to come up with a plan to keep his dad far away from his best friend. As far away as possible.   
  
Lydia frowned at his words. She wasn’t sure she understood, but she figured they’d give her the whole story when it wasn’t the middle of the night. Lydia nodded, reached out and squeezed Scott’s arm before stepping forward a few feet and walking into Stiles room. She hesitated when she spotted Melissa and the sheriff.   
  
The sheriff glanced over at the sound footsteps and a hint of relief filled him when he spotted Lydia. He stood, “Thank you for coming,” he said with half a smile that was more of a grimace.   
  
Lydia nodded, “Of course...I was actually about to head over when Scott was calling,” she explained her gaze falling on Stiles. Lydia’s chest tightened as she walked toward the bed, setting Prada down on the covers. “Hey,” she said softly addressing Stiles as Prada walked over and sniffed his leg.   
  
Scott walked into the room behind her and stepped over to his mom squeezing her arm gently as he did his best to hold in his anger.   
  
Stiles had barely moved in the past twenty minutes. He was just hunched over, looking a million miles away. He _felt_ a million miles away. He just kept seeing his hands lighting the match that burned the asylum down. His hands that had caused the deaths of multiple people, even if he hadn’t been in control at the time. It was still on his conscience.   
  
Melissa leaned over, pressing a kiss to Stiles’ temple gently and meeting Michael’s gaze, nodding ever-so-slightly toward the door. She rose to her feet, squeezing Scott’s shoulder as she moved past him, giving him and Lydia time with Stiles and hoping maybe they could break through this setback together.   
  
Lydia watched them go and then turned back to Stiles worry filling her when he didn’t answer. Scott frowned too as he walked around the bed to the other side. Lydia slipped off her heels and climbed onto the bed resting on her knees as she reached out to Stiles sliding her hand down his arm. “Stiles,” she whispered as she moved closer to him.   
  
Scott sat on the bed on the other side of Stiles watching to see if his friend would respond to Lydia any better than he’d responded to them.   
  
“I’m trying,” Stiles whispered, not looking at either of them, his voice pained. “It’s just not working right now.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, letting out a shuddering breath.   
  
Lydia nodded and glanced at Scott. “Come over here,” she said softly before glancing back at Stiles and resting her palm flat against his chest. “Lie down,” she said quietly as she pressed him back until he was against the pillows.   
  
Scott shifted closer resting a hand on his friends arm as he lay beside him too. Lydia lay down on the other side of Stiles pressing herself against him as she gripped one of his arms and tugged it over her body. “It’s going to be okay.” She told him softly. “We’re here and we’re not going anywhere. Take a deep breath Stiles, hold me.” She whispered as Scott squeezed Stiles’ shoulder leaning against the back of his friend.   
  
If he wasn’t so screwed up in the head, he’d probably laugh at how ridiculous he looked, curled up between the two of them like he was a kid that needed to be protected. But maybe that wasn’t so far off the mark anymore. He curled his arm around Lydia tiredly, resting his forehead against hers and exhaling slowly as he felt Scott’s hand on his shoulder. “You guys are better than anti-anxiety medication,” he joked.   
  
Lydia smiled and Scott chuckled glad to hear his friend forming coherent sentences again. He finally relaxed beside his best friend. “We try,” Scott said, his voice tired, but happy. He was finally starting to feel like himself again now that Stiles was calmer, which in turn made Lydia calmer. If she felt things that strongly all the time he had no idea how she dealt with it because he was exhausted.   
  
Lydia placed her hand over his. “Best prescription ever.” She said as Prada sniffed around and found her way over between Stiles and Lydia, curling up into a small ball and plopping down on the bed. Lydia brushed a thumb over Stiles’ chest as she leaned into him, “You’re okay for now.” Lydia told him.   
  
Scott nodded, “She’s right, you should get some sleep,” he said worriedly.   
  
Stiles forced himself to take a deep breath, nodding and letting his eyes drift shut. “You guys, too,” he murmured sleepily. “I‘m sorry.” Within moments his breathing had evened out once more as he drifted into sleep.   


______

  
  
Melissa wasn’t surprised when she wandered downstairs at the Stilinski household at 3 AM to find that Michael was already sitting at the kitchen table in the dark. She hadn’t gone back to sleep after Stiles’ nightmare, either. “I haven’t seen him have one like that since…” After Claudia Stilinski had died. Her voice was quiet as she stood in the darkness for a long moment before moving to sit down beside him at the table.   
  
Michael nodded, staring at the glass of Jack Daniels in front of him. Melissa didn’t have to say the words, he knew what she meant. “Neither have I.” He admitted despite the nightmares that had preceded his possession, none had left him in such a catatonic state. Michael’s grip on the glass tightened, his knuckles going white. Silence surrounded them, the light ticking of the clock the only sound that filled the room.   
  
“I’m terrified that he’s not going to be able to get past this. That we’re not going to be enough to pull him back from all the darkness that this...thing drowned him in.” His voice quaked as he sat slumped in his chair. Michael had never been the perfect father, but he’d always been there when Stiles needed him, even sometimes when he preferred he wasn’t there and yet now, when Stiles needed him the most he was at a loss of what to do.   
  
Melissa was silent for a long moment, watching him in the darkness before reaching out and resting her hand on top of his wordlessly. She shifted in her chair. “It isn’t going to be easy.” None of what had been happening had been. “But Stiles...he’s a strong kid. He always has been.” He sort of had to be, losing his mom at such a young age, even before she’d actually died. She just thanked God that Stiles wasn’t facing the same fate himself now.   
  
“And you’re a good father, Michael.” Her voice was hushed. “We _will_ get him through this.” And she believed that, because there weren’t any other options. What had happened to him wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t been himself, hadn’t been in control. Because Stiles, for as much trouble as he’d tended to find over the years, was a genuinely good kid. He had a good heart. She’d seen it time and again with his loyalty and unwavering support for Scott throughout the years. She _wouldn’t_ let this darkness consume her other son. She just wouldn’t.   
  
Michael placed his hand over hers, squeezing it gently as his eyes slid shut. He was exhausted and this whole thing wasn’t even happening to him. He couldn't imagine what Stiles was going through. He was silent, letting her words sink in. Melissa’s reassurance had been exactly what he needed. “I honestly don’t know what I would do without you,” his voice was quiet.   
  
“You have to be right, because I don’t think I’d survive losing Stiles.” Michael knew that the Nogitsune was gone, but he was afraid his son was going to wind up losing his mind because of everything that happened.   
  
“And I honestly feel the same.” Melissa squeezed his hand in return. She reached up with her other hand and rubbed his shoulder the way she’d done to Stiles earlier that night. “I’m right,” she informed him firmly.   
  
“Should we see if they can give us something to help him sleep?” Michael whispered the words not liking the idea of keeping Stiles on a rotating cocktail of drugs, but also not wanting his son to suffer through nightmares constantly.   
  
“Honestly, I’ve considered that. But I think if we go that route, we’ll need to use it sparingly as possible. It’ll be better for him in the long run if he can start working through things without the aid of narcotics.” She was quiet for a moment. “And I’m afraid to say it, but I think my ex had a lot to do with this round of nightmares.” She sighed softly, pulling her hands away and resting her chin on them as she looked out the window.   
  
Michael hadn’t wanted to say anything because he didn’t want to hurt Melissa, but he thought so too. He released the glass he’d been holding and straightened up enough to reach over and rub his hand over Melissa’s back. “I think you might be right,” he muttered and then sighed. “After all this time...why come back now?” Michael shook his head before peering over at Melissa. “Do you know why?” He inquired, his hand moving in slow circles against her skin.   
  
She sighed softly, relaxing against his touch. She had some theories, none of which she liked. “He swears up and down he just wants to reconcile with Scott, but it feels like there’s a lot more to it than that.” She just hoped he wasn’t getting any ideas that they were going to end up a big happy family again, because it just wasn’t going to happen. She’d long since moved on with her life and she had no interest in backtracking.   
  
Michael hesitated before asking his next question. “Has he dropped any hints about the two of you getting back together?” He inquired, not wanting to pry, but needing to know. Putting aside the fact that he wasn’t sure he could help Stiles without her there was a reason Melissa and Rafael hadn’t worked out, a reason that she didn’t know. But if she was considering giving him a second chance it was a reason Michael knew he’d have to share with her and he wasn’t sure how she’d take it after all these years.   
  
“He can drop all the hints that he’d like. At the end of the day, it’s never going to happen,” Melissa said honestly, looking at him. “The only good thing that ever came out of my marriage to Rafael was Scott.” Her voice was quiet. Her marriage hadn’t been like his with Claudia. She’d seen them together, seen how much they loved one another. Had watched helplessly as Claudia’s health had declined in a much quicker period of time than any of them had initially anticipated. She’d seen how it had affected him, how it had affected Stiles.   
  
Michael nodded, “Good,” he responded, “You deserve better than he ever gave you.” There was an underlying hint of hardness in his voice as he spoke. “We’re not going to let him come back in town and just take over everything. No one at the station trusts him.” He commented. “We’ll figure out what to do about his line of questioning when I see what kind of evidence he has.”   
  
Michael ran a hand over his face not even sure he was really talking about this. His son was a suspect and despite the fact that it wasn’t him at the time, his body was still present committing crimes. How did they get around that? Michael honestly didn’t know, but he knew they had to. He wouldn’t let his son get put behind bars for something he had no control over.   
  
Melissa cocked her head slightly, watching him in the darkness, curious about his tone. She knew that Michael and Rafael had never liked one another. That Stiles hadn’t liked Scott’s father, either, and none of that had ever surprised her. The Stilinski’s were protective. She wished she’d known Claudia better, before she’d gotten sick. But between her job, taking care of Scott and his asthma, and trying to hold her own marriage together, there hadn’t been enough time to really form a lasting bond with Michael’s deceased wife.   
  
“Do you think he really has anything?” she asked, voice hushed. She really hoped not. She couldn’t fathom Stiles standing trial for the litany of charges that would inevitably be filed if Rafael _did_ have actual evidence of some kind. She couldn’t fathom Stiles in some kind of detention center. The thought made her feel physically ill. He’d never survive a place like that for long.   
  
“It’s hard to tell.” Michael admitted honestly, “Stiles was all over when he was possessed. It’s possible people saw him and it’s possible he left physical evidence _somewhere_ , but I think if Rafael really had something he would have taken Stiles away from the hospital.” He told Melissa; at least he hoped that was the case. “I’ll look into things in the morning. I’ve got to go in at around nine.”   
  
Melissa considered that for a moment, looking troubled. “Well. I have the day off, so I’ll stay here with Stiles while you do what you need to do. And if there’s some way that I can help, I hope it goes without saying that I’ll do it.”   
  
Michael studied Melissa for a minute before nodding. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Thank you. I don’t worry nearly as much when I know you’re with him. And with Scott and Lydia here I’m sure he’ll be okay or as okay as he can be.” Michael was still baffled by how quickly Stiles had calmed down last night after Lydia got there. Between her and Scott, Stiles had been asleep in minutes and he hadn’t woken up since, because Michael had been listening.   
  
Melissa had been listening too, because that was what parents did. It was what mothers did. And she may not have given birth to Stiles, but he was still her son regardless. The same way that Scott was Michael’s son. She nodded in agreement. “We’ll be okay. All of us. We’ll all get through this. One step at a time.” Because there simply wasn’t another way _to_ get through something like this.   
  
Melissa nodded, “Come on, the kids are resting...we should try to get some rest too.”   
  
Michael pushed his chair back leaving his half full glass of Jack Daniels on the table and holding a hand out to Melissa, offering her some comfort that Michael realized he needed too.   
  
She took his hand wordlessly, squeezing it as she followed him out of the kitchen. They could deal with the rest later.   


______

  
  
Stiles wasn’t sure at what point Scott had left to go meet Kira that morning, but it was before he’d ever woken up. He’d felt his friend’s absence even if it hadn’t been on a conscious level. But Lydia had still been there and while his dreams had shifted to darker themes, they hadn’t become full blown nightmares at least. He waited until Lydia had gone to shower and get ready for the day ahead before slowly making his way down the stairs, wondering where his dad was.   
  
His eyes were sleepy, hair uncombed as he rubbed his face with one hand and made his way into the kitchen. He’d barely reached the bottom of the stairs when he smelled what he was pretty sure were pancakes. His dad wasn’t a cook by any means. Which meant Melissa McCall was there, fixing breakfast. It really should’ve been the other way around, considering everything she’d been doing for him and for his dad.   
  
“Mo -- Ms. McCall?”   
  
Melissa was in the process of turning one of the pancakes over in the pan when she heard Stiles call out to her. Her chest tightened at the almost slip, it was the third time he’d done it, not that she was keeping track, but it was a rare occurrence. She knew Stiles sometimes got self-conscious about things like that so she didn’t mention it. “I’m in the kitchen sweetie,” she called as she added another pancake to the serving plate that was already full.   
  
Melissa had made some egg whites and turkey bacon for Michael before he left for the station since she hadn’t slept very long. Melissa turned off the stove, put the spatula down and then grabbed the plate of pancakes and brought it to the table where there was already butter, syrup and juice out. “How are you feeling?” She asked when she glanced up and spotted Stiles in the doorway.   
  
His chest felt tight in a different way than it had been lately. Not with guilt or anger or sadness, but with warmth. He looked at her through sleepy eyes as she stood at the stove and then carried the plate over to the table. He rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly, chewing his lower lip. The food smelled really good, but he wasn’t hungry. Not really.   
  
“Okay,” he answered, watching her for a moment before moving to sit down in his usual spot at the table. “Scott went to meet with Kira, right?”   
  
Melissa nodded as she walked over to Stiles, “He did,” she confirmed as she brushed his hair out of his eyes and rested her hand on his cheek. “Were you able to get any sleep last night?” she inquired worriedly as she studied his face.   
  
Stiles closed his eyes, leaning into her touch and nodding. “Yeah once Lydia and Scott were both here.” His shoulders slumped a little.   
  
Melissa wrapped her arms around him, rubbing her hand up and down his back. “That’s something at least.” She stated standing there silently with him for a couple of minutes. “Do you want to talk about what happened last night?” She asked her tone soft, soothing as she spoke.   
  
Stiles laid his head against her shoulder as he hugged her back, swallowing hard at her question. “Just...an attack of guilt-induced nightmares basically.” His voice was barely audible.   
  
Melissa swallowed hard and held him tighter. “Sweetie, I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. Having something inside of you do terrible things,” she paused a lump forming in her throat, but she took a deep breath and talked through it. “Using you the way this thing did, it’s terrible. But I need you to know that we all love you and no one blames you.”   
  
Melissa shifted back so she could grip his chin gently and catch his gaze. “I understand it’s not as easy for you to brush aside, but we want you to know you can talk to us about anything. Your dad and I are here. And we’ll listen to anything you need to get off your chest. There isn’t anything you can say that will make any of us love you any less.”   
  
Stiles held his breath as she spoke quiet reassurances before pulling away to look at him. His eyes burned, and he wondered if he was ever going to just...run out of tears to shed. It felt like all he was doing anymore was crying or causing trouble. He managed a short nod, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Thanks,” he whispered thickly. “If I could get through a day without having some kind of...breakdown that’d be a nice change.”   
  
Melissa reached out placing a palm on his cheek and brushing a tear away. “You’ll get there,” she told him confidently. “It takes time and while it seems like it’s been a while, a month isn’t really that long sweetie, especially not for something like this.” Melissa wrapped an arm around him, “What do you say we have some breakfast?”   
  
Stiles drew in a breath and let it out slowly, letting her guide him to the table and chewing on his thumbnail as he stared blankly at the plate of food for a long moment before forcing himself to pick up his fork and take a bite. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I think...having you here helps my dad a lot. It helps me, too.”   
  
Melissa sat beside him watching him for a minute before turning her attention to her food figuring he probably wouldn’t want her sitting there and observing him like some kind of ticking time bomb. “You’re welcome,” Melissa said with a smile pausing at his next words and reaching out a hand resting it on his arm. “I’m glad I can help,” she said sincerely. It was all she wanted to do. Michael and Stiles were good people and she hated that they were going through this.   
  
Melissa gave Stiles’ arm a gentle pat before pulling her hands back and starting to eat her breakfast, her gaze drifting to the hallway when she heard the sound of someone coming down the stairs.   
  
Lydia ran a hand through her wet hair and fixed her blouse not bothering to tuck it into her skirt. She wore the same clothes as yesterday because she hadn’t expected to fall asleep at Derek’s so she didn’t bring clothes and she didn’t have anything at Stiles’ house either, but it wasn’t too big of a deal. Prada followed her down the stairs, her bare feet hitting the floor as she stepped off the last stair.   
  
Lydia shifted her arm and winced slightly her gaze falling on the large bruise that must have formed in her sleep. She sighed, so much for being discreet. It didn’t matter though, she was anxious to see Stiles, he hadn’t been in bed when she got out of the shower and she wanted to check on him.   
  
Lydia stepped through the kitchen doorway and spotted Ms. McCall and Stiles at the table. Some of the tension in her chest dissipated. “Morning,” she said softly as she walked over to the table Prada hopping after her.   
  
Stiles looked over when Lydia walked in, offering her a small smile. It was strange to see her in the same clothes two days in a row, and with wet hair. And walking into his kitchen first thing in the morning. “Morning,” he said just as quietly, glancing down at the little dog trailing her.   
  
She hesitated before pulling out a chair and sitting down beside Stiles. Lydia glanced at Ms. McCall and smiled, “Morning,” she said keeping her tone light. She’d spent the night with Stiles before, but for some reason that morning felt different. Most likely because she’d never showered at his place before, but she’d felt sweaty and like she needed to be clean.   
  
Melissa smiled, “Morning Lydia, did you sleep alright?” She asked as she passed the plate of pancakes towards her.   
  
Lydia nodded, “Yeah, the second time around.” She told Scott’s mom with half a smile. She still couldn’t get over how attentive Ms. McCall and the sheriff always were. It was different than what she was used to, but nice. Lydia glanced at the pancakes and it suddenly occurred to her she was starving, despite the fact that her stomach felt unsettled. She lifted her arm and reached over to grab a pancake from the plate. “Thanks.”   
  
Stiles watched her, gaze focusing in on the bruise she was sporting on her arm almost instantly when she reached for the plate of pancakes. He stared at her with wide eyes, immediately wondering if he’d somehow done it, maybe in his sleep. “What happened?”   
  
Lydia’s gaze went to the bruise and then to Stiles her heartbeat picking up speed. “I,” she paused, not wanting to lie to him, but she also didn’t think telling him about Peter right now was a good idea “It was just an accident.” She responded, “It barely hurts.” She put the pancake on her plate and then reached out resting a hand on his arm, “How are you feeling?” She asked changing the subject. He still looked tired, but she wasn’t getting any overwhelming emotions from him like last night.   
  
Stiles not only saw the lie flicker over her face, he _felt_ her decision not to tell him what had happened. Or maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe it was just all in his head. He’d always had an overactive imagination. The problem was sometimes he still wasn’t entirely convinced of what was real and what wasn’t and he wondered if it was always going to be like that now. Always doubting himself. His own instincts.   
  
“I’m okay,” he said quietly, gaze flickering over to Melissa and trying to see if she’d noticed anything off with Lydia.   
  
Melissa pursed her lips noticing the Stiles eyes on her. “Lydia sweetie, it seems like a big bruise for an accident.” She told the teenager her voice void of judgment.   
  
Lydia glanced between them and sighed. She couldn’t sit there and lie to both of their faces it made her feel guilty, which would only add to the headache she already had. Lydia angled her body in Stiles direction and pushed some hair behind her ear. “Don’t get mad,” she said softly, “But I went to go see Peter yesterday.” She told him her hand gripping the fabric of her skirt as she watched him, noticing Ms. McCall’s look out of the corner of her eye.   
  
Stiles sat back in his chair, eyes widening. “Peter Hale did -- _Jesus Christ_ , Lydia!” His outburst of anger surprised all of them.   
  
Lydia winced, she hadn’t heard Stiles raise his voice in a long time and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Her stomach clenched and she bit her lower lip. “Derek took me. He got Peter away from me before anything bad happened. It’s just a bruise I’m fine, I promise. And I found out a little more about how to try and control what’s happening with me. I just wanted to help,” Lydia explained.   
  
Stiles’ face paled instantly when she winced and he shut his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He set his fork down slowly because he was half afraid that he was going to end up hurting someone. He could practically hear the Nogitsune’s mocking voice in his head still. “No, I...I shouldn’t have --” He swallowed hard. “What did you find out?”   
  
Melissa frowned and she reached out to him the same time Lydia did. But she said nothing for the moment, her chest tightening at the pain on his face.   
  
Lydia shifted closer to him resting a hand on his leg. “You have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn’t have lied to you, _I’m_ sorry. I just don’t like making you worry on top of everything else.” Lydia squeezed his leg gently needing to reassure him when she felt an odd mix of emotions coming from him, one’s she couldn’t quite distinguish.   
  
“But there’s been a lot going on and I hate that I can’t help...that I didn’t help then,” she whispered, “I found out a lot about what I need to do and I found out some stuff about you too.” Lydia told him softly.   
  
Stiles’ natural inclination was to reach down and cover Lydia’s hand with his own, but he didn’t dare. Not right then. “Lydia.” He shut his eyes again, shaking his head. “You literally saved my life. How can you say you didn’t help?” He rubbed a hand over his forehead, thinking about what she said. “Wait, what? What do you mean?”   
  
Lydia pressed her lips together and glanced between Stiles and Ms. McCall. “I’m not going to school today. I look like a drowned rat, I don’t have my make-up with me and my car is at home.” She explained. “Eat, relax and then I’ll tell you everything. No secrets,” Lydia said as she rubbed her hand over his leg.   
  
Melissa watched them for a minute before her gaze shifted to Stiles taking in the tension in his body and wondering what had caused it.   
  
The problem was the very little appetite that he’d had moments before had completely vanished the minute he’d snapped at her. But he knew he had to eat because he didn’t want to waste Melissa McCall’s hard work or make her feel bad or worry about him even more than she already was. So he simply nodded at Lydia’s words, focusing on stuffing his mouth full of food.   
  
Lydia glanced worriedly over at Ms. McCall. She could already feel the stirrings of his emotions starting to invade her. He was obviously upset about something, but she had no idea what it was. All Lydia did know was she’d managed to upset Stiles and she’d barely been awake for two hours. Lydia lifted her fork and poked gently at her pancakes, suddenly not very hungry at all.   
  
After a few minutes he’d managed to finish off the two pancakes he’d taken out. Once upon a time he could’ve easily gone through a stack of six. Hell, Scott could eat a stack of eight and still be hungry. Then again Scott had werewolf metabolism. And he hadn’t recently been possessed by a Nogitsune. Apparently both of those things made some kind of difference. He waited until they had both finished their food before rising to his feet and carrying all the dirty plates to the sink.   
  
Melissa got up and walked over to Stiles squeezing his shoulder gently. “I’m going to go shower and change, but if you need anything, either of you,” she glanced at Lydia, “Just let me know.” She pressed a kiss to the side of Stiles head and started walking towards the hallway.   
  
“Thanks,” he murmured, watching her go before looking down at the sink and filling it up with hot, soapy water, watching as the water filled the small area slowly. He chewed his lower lip as he stared down at it, watching the steam rise up. “I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet and he wasn’t sure she could even hear him over the sound of the water running.   
  
Lydia frowned, not sure why Stiles was apologizing to her. She pushed her chair back and got up making her way slowly over to the sink. She ran her hands down the back of his arms before carefully gripping his waist and resting her cheek against the side of his arm. “For what?” she asked genuinely confused, the urge to hug him, show him that he wasn’t alone overwhelming. Lydia felt like he needed a reminder.   
  
Stiles closed his eyes when she rested her head against him. “For yelling at you,” he said softly. He could count on two fingers the amount of times he’d yelled at Lydia Martin the entire time he’d known her. Once he’d been trying to get her to run when Peter Hale was about to attack. The second time he’d just been so exasperated he couldn’t help it.   
  
Lydia shook her head, “That’s what you’re upset about?” She asked shaking her head. “Stiles, you were worried. I could feel that. How often have I snapped at you?” She asked knowing it had to be a lot. “Will you turn around and look at me?” She asked keeping her voice soft as she shifted back enough to give him room to move.   
  
“It’s not the same, Lydia.” He turned to face her, but couldn’t meet her eyes. “And it wasn’t just worry. I was angry. And I can’t --” He shook his head, falling silent once more as he exhaled.   
  
Lydia gripped his cheeks urging him to look up at her. “Angry because I went to Peter, because you hate that I risked going there, because you were _worried_. The anger came from a good place.” She told him quietly. “Tell me what you’re afraid of...I can feel it, but I don’t understand, help me, please.”   
  
“It doesn’t matter, Lydia. I can’t even --” He forced himself to take another deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t tell the difference anymore, okay? Good anger, bad anger, it all just feels…terrifying.”   
  
Lydia pursed her lips, “It matters to me.” She said softly not sure how to help him, how to make him see what he was feeling was his own fear. That he wasn’t a bad person because Lydia had a feeling that was part of what he was struggling with. “You don’t terrify _me_ even if it terrifies you. I wish I could fix this and I know it’s not that simple. But I’m here, Scott’s here, your dad and Ms. McCall, we’re all here and we’re all worried _for_ you.”   
  
“I mean it doesn’t matter if it’s good anger or bad anger. It all feels bad, okay? All of it.” He was shaking again. Not hard, but enough that it was noticeable. “And I know you’re all here for me, and it means a lot. I just -- I can’t just have random outbursts of anger. It’s not safe.” He swallowed heavily and turned back to the sink, scrubbing at the dishes.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard. “We’re not afraid of you Stiles.” She wasn’t going to let him think that he was some kind of terrible person or that he was dangerous. Lydia could see him shaking and she shook her head. She reached forward and shut off the water before stepping between him and the sink, his hands were wet and he didn’t seem to really want her comfort at the moment, but Lydia didn’t care.   
  
She pressed her back against the sink and looked up at him. “You’re not dangerous, not to us. I trust you completely, so does Scott.” Lydia lifted her hand again cupping his cheek wanting to show him she meant what she was saying, “I’m not afraid of you.” Lydia leaned up and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly.   
  
“Maybe you should be,” he murmured, looking more tired now. “You probably should. Look how easy it was for that -- thing to take over, Lydia. How long it was before I even realized what was happening.” He looked down at her for a brief moment, pain flickering through his eyes. “You don’t know the things that it was planning. The things it still wanted to do.” The things it _would_ have done if Lydia and Kira and the others hadn’t stopped it when they had. He hugged her back, but not as tightly as she hugged him.   
  
Lydia closed her eyes, wishing she could help rid him of the turmoil wreaking havoc inside of his head. “I don’t care.” She said quietly, not releasing him just yet. “There isn’t a time that I feel safer than when I’m with you. I refuse to believe you're dangerous.” She told him matter-of-factly. “The Nogitsune is gone and it’s never coming back… _ever_. You’re safe now despite what you think everything is going to be okay.” It had to be.   
  
Stiles shut his eyes, resting his chin on top of her head. He wasn’t sure why she felt safe with him, especially now. There were a lot of things he didn’t really understand anymore. Maybe he never had. Maybe he never would.


	11. Chapter 11

Scott made his way through the empty school hallway rubbing his eyes with one hand, helmet in the other. It had been a long night and he'd woken up way too early. But since he couldn't fall back asleep and Lydia and Stiles had been out cold, Scott decided to see if Kira could meet before school instead of after. He spotted her father's classroom, which was where they were supposed to meet, and saw the door was wide open. Kira was probably already there.   
  
Scott walked into the classroom and grinned when he spotted Kira sitting at one of the desks in the front row. "Hey," he said softly as he closed the distance between them. He set his helmet and backpack down and hesitated for a second before leaning down and pulling Kira into a quick hug. "How have you been?"   
  
Kira smiled when she spotted him, rising to her feet and hugging him back when he was standing there in front of her. “I’m good. Things are okay. We just...went out of town for a little while because…” She hesitated. “My mom had to explain some things and she thought it was best if we took some time as a family and went away for it.” She was suddenly kind of nervous, because she knew she had to tell him the truth and she was half afraid of what his reaction was going to be.   
  
Scott nodded releasing her a minute later and sliding into the seat across from where she stood. He shifted his body so he was facing her and waited for her to sit. "I get it, a lots been going on all around." He admitted, "I was actually kind of worried that you left because of us...I never even really got a chance to thank you for helping us." Scott told her quietly as he reached for her hand. "It really meant a lot that you helped us save Stiles."   
  
“No, no, nothing like that,” Kira said, eyes widening. She sat down across from him, taking his hand. “And of course. I mean I sort of...accidentally jump-started the whole thing to begin with and I still...feel really terrible about that honestly.” She hesitated for a moment. “And there’s...actually more to the story than I even knew about. Stuff that my mom explained.”   
  
Scott squeezed her hand, "It's not your fault, please don't feel bad. You had no idea and no one blames you," least of all him, Scott added silently. His brows drew together when she said there was more to the story. He could hear the increase in her heart beat and worry crossed his face. "What do you mean? More about the Nogitsune?"   
  
Kira offered him a tiny smile, ducking her head. “Yeah.” She looked down at their hands for a moment. “My mom is...sort of like me.” She hesitated. “Except she’s...over 900 years old and she sort of...is the one who summoned the Nogitsune back in 1943.”   
  
Scott's eyes widened. As far as information went, he hadn't been expecting that. "Wow," he whispered not entirely sure what to say. "Why?" He inquired curiously, "I mean I thought the Nogitsune was bad, why would your mom summon a dark spirit?" And why hadn't her mother mentioned that when crazy things started happening in the town?   
  
Kira tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Some really bad things happened back then at an internment camp.” She exhaled before forging forward, telling him the entire story of what had happened with her mom back then, about the terrible things that had been happening. About how in an act of desperation, her mother had called down the Nogitsune.   
  
Scott had listened intently squeezing her hand a few times throughout her story, not able to imagine how horrible this must have been. "I'm really sorry that happened to your mom, that she had to go through all of that pain," he murmured as he brushed his thumb in calming circles over her hand. "At least no one ever has to worry about the Nogitsune again now. Lydia destroyed it for good." He explained knowing Kira already knew that part.   
  
"But it's good to know how it all happened. Who knew the whole thing with Jennifer Blake and the sacrifices would let it out." Maybe that news would be helpful to Stiles and he could let go of a portion of the guilt he carried with him.   
  
“Which is good, because...it could’ve been a lot worse.” Kira looked up at him. “I mean the Nogitsune wasn’t really very picky about who it hurt. It just..wanted to hurt everyone.” She grimaced. “I hope it helps a little.” She hesitated for a moment. “How is he?” she asked quietly, remembering how much her mother had talked about how guilty she’d felt about what had happened in 1943.   
  
Scott sighed swallowing hard. "He's not doing too great," he admitted honestly his chest tightening. Scott was worried about Stiles. It was hard for him not knowing how to help his friend. He was tired, stressed and really confused about all the new alpha abilities he seemed to be developing.   
  
Plus dealing with his dad was seriously bringing out a side of him that he didn't like and couldn't always control. "It's hard, I just want to be there for him and help fix things, but I don't know how." He whispered glancing down at their hands.   
  
Kira’s eyes were full of sympathy. She squeezed Scott’s hand gently. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said honestly. “I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to help him, or you, but...if there is something…” Her voice trailed off.   
  
Scott glanced up sending her a small smile. “Believe it or not just being back in town helps. I missed you,” he admitted before a rush of shyness hit him. Scott scratched the back of his neck hoping he wasn’t blushing...guys didn’t do that...okay they did, but he didn’t want to be one of _those_ guys. “Uh- I mean I missed seeing you here in school with me and...well if you wanted to visit Stiles I bet he’d like that.” Scott told her internally berating himself for being such an idiot. He was the _hot_ girl, why did he always have so much trouble with expressing himself? He was an idiot.   
  
Her own cheeks flushed at his words. “I missed you, too.” Her voice was quiet and she considered his words. “I could definitely come visit if you think that would be okay.” She didn’t really know Stiles that well, but he seemed like a nice guy. And she could relate to his awkwardness.   
  
Scott’s face lit up and he grinned stupidly. She missed him too. That was awesome. “You did help save his life,” he commented threading their fingers together as he spoke his body feeling calmer and his emotions more in control than they had been in the past month. “Which I don’t think you’ll ever know how grateful I am about,” Scott reminded her, “So I don’t see why he would mind. I’ll talk to him.” He told her the smile still on his face.   
  
Kira’s face lit up when his did, eyes brighter than before. Unlike his calmness, her body felt like it was buzzing with energy, and she wondered if that was just how things were going to be now that she knew what she was, and what she could do. “Okay.” She looked at him for a moment. “Does he like cake? Do you like cake?”   
  
Scott’s grin widened. She was beautiful when she smiled. “Stiles loves cake...so I do. I bet if you made it the cake would be like perfect.” He said enjoying the way her heartbeat danced in her chest. He could almost feel the nervous energy from her and all he wanted to do was bask in it. Kira liked him, which was good since he definitely liked her.   
  
“Then I’ll make cake. And if it’s okay with Stiles and his dad, I’ll come by this weekend with it.” She blushed again at the compliment. “Are you still gonna be there this weekend?” she asked hopefully.   
  
“If I’m not I’ll go there for you,” Scott paused when he realized what he said, “I mean, yeah, most likely because, well Stiles is my best friend and he needs me...because I’m his best friend.” He explained his hand going to the back of his neck again. “I’ll talk to him today,” he promised.   
  
“Okay. Sounds good.” She looked up when the bell rang, wincing a little at how loud it was. “They could make that just a little bit quieter.” She shook her head, rising to her feet. “See you in history?” she asked hopefully.   
  
Scott stood up and grinned, “Yeah, definitely I’ll be there, maybe I can save you a seat I mean if you wanted.” He told her as he reached for his backpack and helmet.   
  
“Yeah, I’d like that. Just...not too close to the front. My dad already enjoys embarrassing me when I’m in the very back.” She grimaced.   
  
Scott grinned and pulled his bag over his shoulder. “I like your dad,” he admitted as he nodded towards the door. “But I promise not too close...I can walk you to your first class,” Scott offered.   
  
“I like my dad, too, but some things shouldn’t be said out loud?” She laughed softly as she followed him. “And yeah, I’d like that.”   
  
Scott smiled hesitating before taking her hand and making his way down the hall with Kira by his side.   


______

  
  
Stiles hadn’t gotten dressed that day. He’d just stayed in his t-shirt and sweat pants. He just didn’t have the energy to get dressed and pretend that everything was okay when everything wasn’t okay. He’d spent most of the day just hanging around with Lydia in bed, watching movies. He’d fallen asleep at some point, and had woken up from a nightmare gasping. Fortunately she’d been right there already, so the panic attack had been short but intense. He needed to talk to Deaton. This wasn’t healthy for Lydia to have to deal with his actual emotions. There had to be some way to turn off that connection unless it absolutely needed to be utilized. And nightmares and panic attacks didn’t count.   
  
Ms. McCall had taken to the living room with a book, checking on them every so often with worried eyes. It made him want to cry.   
  
Lydia had taken Prada out for a walk, and he was still trying not to worry too much. It was still daylight and overall the street the Stilinski’s lived on was pretty secure. At least when no one possessed lived there. He made his way down the stairs, chewing on a hangnail on his finger. He paused when he spotted his dad in the living room now, too. Except Ms. McCall was now out of sight. He could hear noise in the kitchen. She was probably making dinner.   
  
“Dad?” His voice was tentative.   
  
Michael glanced over at the doorway at the sound of his son’s voice. He sent Stiles half a smile despite the fact that his day had been long and hard. While things were cleaning up around town nicely and the police station looked better than knew, Rafael was making his life a living hell. “Hey son,” he took a few steps forward noticing Stiles clenching one hand and biting the nail on the other.   
  
Michael arched an eyebrow, “How was your day?” He asked as he reached out and squeezed his arm gently.   
  
“It was okay,” he told him, eyes troubled. “How about yours?”   
  
“Busy,” he said with a small hesitant smile, “Melissa is making dinner,” he told his son before motioning to the couch. “Why don’t you come sit down for a minute,” he suggested as he walked over to the couch.   
  
Stiles nodded, rubbing the back of his neck and moving to sit down on the sofa beside his father. He chewed on his lower lip, yawning involuntarily as he sat, glancing at his dad sideways. “I need to ask you a favor.”   
  
Michael could see how tired his son was and he wished there was something more he could do to help him. “Okay, what’s going on?” He asked worry filling him.   
  
“Lydia’s mom left. Like left Beacon Hills.” He stared down at his hands, shoulders full of tension. “She took a job in San Diego. Told Lydia she could stay here until graduation, at the house. You know, _alone._ ”   
  
Michael frowned at the tension in his son’s body as he spoke. He reached out a hand and rested it on Stiles’ shoulder trying to ease some of the tension in him. “Are you sure?” he asked wondering how a parent could just leave their kid in a town away from where they’re going to be especially a town like Beacon Hills.   
  
“Yeah, I’m sure. She took a teaching job there.” He let out a breath, and looked over at his dad. “It’s not safe in this town for Lydia to stay alone.” He kind of hoped his dad understood what he was getting at. He also knew it was a bit of an awkward request. His dad knew how he felt about Lydia Martin. How he’d _always_ felt about Lydia Martin.   
  
The second the words left his son’s mouth he knew where Stiles was going with the conversation. Michael hesitated, “Stiles,” he paused, “That is a big step.” he said pursing his lips. “I’m not sure it’s the best idea.” He said but even as he, “Have you talked to Lydia about this?” The sheriff knew they were close and even though he didn’t understand their connection he knew it was important to his son.   
  
“Dad, I know. I know it is. And I know it’s weird.” He exhaled, rubbing his hands over his face as his shoulders slumped a little. “But you know the kind of crap that happens in this town and it’s just not -- she’s like a magnet for finding trouble and if she’s alone _all_ the time then…” He couldn’t even seem to form the right sentences and it was frustrating and he felt a flicker of fear that maybe, just maybe, it was starting all over again. He held his breath for a few seconds, then let it out slowly.   
  
Michael could see the struggle in his son and his chest tightened. He didn’t like seeing Stiles like this. He squeezed Stiles’ shoulder, “She can stay,” he said quietly. “I’m not sure why her mom would leave her all alone, but I understand your concern and Lydia...she’s a sweet a girl.” Michael paused, “Having her here helps you.” he observed.   
  
Stiles wasn’t trying to use his issues to manipulate his dad into giving in, but somehow it felt like it anyway. “Her mom’s never really...been that involved, Dad.” His voice was sad. “Her family isn’t like ours. Never has been.”   
  
That was something Michael had noticed. Lydia was very hesitant around them when they were all together like a family, but it was clear to see that she enjoyed spending time with them...with _Stiles_. “There would be rules if she stayed here.” Michael commented.   
  
Stiles turned his head to look at his dad, his eyes red-rimmed. “I’m listening,” he said quietly. Whatever the rules were, he was pretty sure it’d be fine.   
  
“There would be a curfew,” Michael said knowing Lydia probably wasn’t used to that. “When Melissa and Scott aren’t here, she sleeps in the guest room.” He told his son pointedly, “Unless you’re having a nightmare,” he added. He pursed his lips, his brows creasing in thought. He was sure he’d come up with more as time went on, but there wasn't anything that came to the forefront of his mind at the moment.   
  
Stiles nodded slightly. So far the rules seemed pretty reasonable to him, all things considered. Even if Lydia had absolutely zero interest in him as anything but a best friend -- which is what she’d called him once -- and there was no way in the world that anything remotely sexual was ever going to happen between them. “Okay,” he said easily.   
  
Michael nodded watching his son for a minute, “You never cease to amaze me kid,” he said before pulling him into a quick hug. “Even with everything going on you’re still so worried about everyone else.”   
  
Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed, mostly at the first part of his dad’s statement, but he hugged him back, closing his eyes. He’d always been a worrier. He doubted it would ever change, really. “I love you, Dad,” he whispered.   
  
Michael’s chest constricted and he tightened his grip just a little bit, “I love you too.” He gave his son a pat on the back before pulling away. “I’m going to go talk to Melissa and see what she thinks of this development,” he said with half a smile. “But I’m sure it will be fine.” Michael didn’t know when things with Melissa had become a partnership, or when they started making decisions for the boys together. But at this point it was like a second nature.   
  
If he hadn’t felt so barely held together right then, he probably would have smiled at his dad’s words. It was almost like getting something you’d wanted for a long time, in the absolute worst way known to mankind. Stiles watched with a hollow, sunken feeling in his chest as his dad headed out of the living room and into the kitchen to talk to Scott’s mom and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his eyes again. He was starting to wonder about Deaton’s offer. It felt like a lifetime ago now, but he’d said he had something that could block Stiles’ memories and he was starting to realize that maybe he just wasn’t going to be strong enough to deal with the fallout of the mess his life had become. The mess that he’d made of it.   
  
He sat still, eerily still, and silent, flinching visibly when the front door opened.   
  
Scott drifted into the house, bag over his shoulder, grin on his face. He couldn’t seem to get it off his face. His day was surprisingly good. He had lunch with Kira and Isaac, Allison hadn’t been around and then he spent his free period with her too. It was a nice break from everything going on and it had done wonders for settling the discord inside of him. He dropped his bag by the door, “Parents I’m back from school, I made good choices, where’s my best friend?” He called in a voice that was probably too happy.   
  
One corner of Stiles’ mouth tugged upwards of its own accord, because there was something refreshing about his best friend actually sounding _happy_ again. It had been awhile and the knowledge that that was his fault too hurt but he shoved it as far down as he could. “Sittin’ right here, Dude. Don’t have to look too far.” He smiled. “What good choices did you make today, Scottie?” He blanched as he remembered the thing calling him Scottie as it taunted him that day at the school, but it was too late to take it back.   
  
Scott walked into the room with a grin, not even phased by the familiar nickname. “Hey dude, I missed you,” he said as he plopped down on the couch beside his friend noticing he didn’t look great. Scott patted him on the back, “Kira like choices,” he commented, “Oh before I forget I ran into Lydia outside, she said she’d be back in a little bit.” He told his friend before shifting so he was fully facing Stiles. “How was your day?” He asked sobering up a bit.   
  
“Yeah? Good. Kira-like choices sound good.” If Kira-like choices made Scott happy, he was in full support of that happening more often. Once upon a time he’d been so incredibly jealous of Allison, because she’d taken so much space in Scott’s life, space that back then was only ever filled with Stiles and Scott time, and he was starting to realize that Stiles and Scott time wasn’t such a great thing for Scott anymore. “You should do that more often. Fine. Lyds and I just watched movies basically.” He shrugged, voice lighter than he felt.   
  
Scott studied Stiles for a minute, “I told her she could come visit you,” he commented watching his friend for a reaction, “She was worried...she’s making cake. I find her...adorable.” He told Stiles not able to keep the smile from his face, but at the same time feeling guilty that he could smile so much when his best friend looked so miserable. “How are you holding up today? For real.” He said before Stiles could feed him a line.   
  
“She’s making cake?” Stiles echoed, caught off guard by that. He didn’t really know Kira very well, but he hadn’t pictured her as a baker. “The _two_ of you are kind of adorable.” Like literally kick in the gut, make you want to throw up adorable, but he didn’t say that. But his heart sank at how easily Scott saw through him -- again. He used to be good at being convincing when he said he was fine. Now no one believed him at all. “Fell asleep during a movie. Had a nightmare.” He shrugged, looking down at his hands. The irony was he was starting to think he needed to be locked up for awhile, away from everyone to give them a break, and the one place that might have taken him...he’d burned down. A dry, humorless chuckle escaped him at the thought. Of course there was also a good chance he was going to end up going to prison for said fire, so there was irony there, too, he supposed. The Nogitsune had loved that kind of thing.   
  
Scott frowned and reached out squeezing his shoulder. “It’ll get better Stiles, I promise...and while we’re on the subject I’ve got news.” He said quietly. “I know why Kira was out of town with her parents and it turns out her mother is a lot more involved with the Nogitsune than we thought.” Scott explained the story about the Japanese internment camp. He told Stiles how everything went down and how Kira’s mom called on the Nogitsune. How it destroyed everything around it and there had only been one way to defeat it.   
  
Scott told him about the fly and the nemeton and how when they did their ritual they let it out. He explained how much worse it could have been and even added in the fact that Kira’s mom was like 900 years old. By the end of his story he tilted his head to the side. “Kira’s mom said that even though he was strong, the guy she loved, he couldn’t fight the Nogitsune, couldn’t stop him at all from the second he took over.”   
  
Scott squeezed Stiles arm. “I know how guilty you feel, I know you blame yourself even if we don’t, but Stiles...if you weren’t as strong as you were this could have gotten a hell of a lot worse. Kira’s mom said it killed _hundreds_ of people. But somehow you were able to control it enough and Lydia was able to destroy it in a way it will never come back. Something even Kira’s mom couldn’t do.” He told his friend softly.   
  
Stiles wanted to ask him how he could promise something like that, how he could be so sure that things would get better. But instead, he stayed silent, listening as Scott relayed the story about Kira’s mom and squeezing his eyes shut at the horrors that came with that story. He knew, of course, deep down that it could have been much worse. That the things the Nogitsune had planned for everyone could have come to pass very easily. But by some miracle they’d gotten so lucky.   
  
He looked at Scott silently for a moment, nodding and swallowing hard, mostly so that his best friend would know that he’d heard him. Truthfully he didn’t know how to respond at all. He’d managed to loosen the Nogitsune’s hold on him long enough to throw himself at Scott to stop a wolfs bane laced arrow from killing him. Managed to break through long enough to text Chris Argent coordinates, even if his initial plans had failed. “I hear you,” he whispered after another moment. He looked down at Scott’s hand on his arm and covered it with his own. “Thanks.”   
  
“Anytime dude, I am _always_ here for you. That’s what best friends are for,” he said with half a smile. “Now tell me...did my mom make anything good for lunch because I feel like I could eat an entire horse.” He said with half a smile. Stiles smirked faintly. “She’s working on dinner right now. Don’t eat any horses. Horses are our friends.”   
  
Scott arched an eyebrow, “Not if I chomp on them,” his eyes flashed and he made a biting motion not able to keep the humor from his face. “Sorry, I’m really hungry I feel like I haven’t eaten in ages...like I’m wasting away,” he glanced down at his body, “Oh no, dude am I wasting away?” He asked melodramatically.   
  
Stiles rolled his eyes at Scott’s antics, shaking his head. “Would that mean it’d turn into a were-horse? If you chomped on a horse but didn’t eat it?” He cocked his head to one side, then reached out and patted Scott’s stomach. “I think you’re okay, dude.”   
  
Scott sent him a thoughtful look, “I don’t know...I wonder if I’d be its alpha if it _did_ turn into as were-horse.” He contemplated with a shrug and smiled at his friend. He knew Stiles was upset, but he hoped that he could at least soften his mood for a little while. Scott leaned back on the couch. “So what else is going on?” He asked keeping his tone light.   
  
Stiles rolled his eyes again. “I don’t know, I think the pack’s already at a good size right now,” he said lightly. “And where would a were-horse even stay?”   
  
Scott shrugged. “We could give it to Lydia, she likes horseback riding,” he said with a grin. “Her very own were-horse. And I bet it would be a good protector because well...I said so and I’m the alpha?” He asked glancing sideways at his friend.   
  
“Yeah, well she might end up living here and we don’t exactly have a barn in the backyard for a horse to live in.” He looked at his best friend for a moment with arched eyebrows.   
  
Scott turned so he was fully facing Stiles. “I’m sorry it sounded like you just said Lydia might be living here...So when I asked if anything happened today and you said no...that wasn’t exactly true, huh?” He asked amused. “What’s going on?”   
  
Stiles sighed softly. “I haven’t exactly talked to her about it yet? Her mom split town. Took a job in San Diego and told her she could stay at their house until after graduation.” He looked down at his hands. “So I asked my dad if she could just stay here and he said she could. With some basic ground rules. Which isn’t unreasonable.”   
  
Scott watched his friend for a minute before shaking his head. “That’s so messed up.” He scratched the back of his neck, “No wonder she’s been so off. I know her parents love her in their own way but...Dude I don’t know what I’d do if my mom just left me. I kinda think I’d be crushed.” He said honestly.   
  
“I guess that makes sense why Derek dropped her off here last night. She must have been staying at his place because she didn’t want to be alone,” he assumed. He’d been trying to figure out what was wrong with Lydia for a couple of days, but she hadn’t wanted to talk about it and now he felt kind of bad that he hadn’t pushed more. He was just so tired lately and his main focus was helping Stiles, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.   
  
Stiles let out a breath, rubbing his hands over his head and nodding. “Yeah, I know.” It had hurt bad enough losing his mother, and she hadn’t _chosen_ to leave. It wasn’t even the same with Scott’s dad when he’d left, because Scott’s dad had been a complete jackass for as far back as Stiles could remember. But if his dad left him? He couldn’t imagine anything more upsetting. Granted he knew that Lydia and her mother weren’t close and never really had been. But he was pretty sure it was still upsetting.   
  
“I need to talk to Derek anyway. And Deaton.” And Peter Hale, he thought silently, though he didn’t add that. He chewed on his lower lip. “And Lydia and Derek went to see Peter.”   
  
Scott frowned, “When did she go to see Peter? Better question why?” He shook his head and ran a hand over his face. “You just missed Derek, he picked up Lydia and Prada.” He told his friend, “And if you want to go talk to Deaton, we can definitely do that. I need to talk to him too, so just tell me when.” He said quietly.   
  
“Yesterday, apparently. To ask him about the whole banshee thing like Derek suggested.” He glanced toward the kitchen, then back at Scott. “He gave her some information.”   
  
Scott arched an eyebrow, “Reliable information?” He asked curiously wondering if it would help her control what she was getting from Stiles.   
  
Stiles sighed. He wasn’t sure how he felt about any of the things that Lydia had filled him in on, wasn’t sure if Peter was being honest, even if it was something he’d been wondering in the back of his mind for a long time now. He was quiet for a moment. “Apparently banshees are connected with particular packs. And apparently Lydia is connected to you as an alpha.” He looked down, twisting his fingers together. “And if Peter’s telling the truth then…” He hesitated, shutting his eyes for a few seconds, then opening them again and looking at him. “Then she’s connected to me too and...I’m connected to all of you.”   
  
Scott studied his friend for a minute. He looked incredibly stressed out by this new information. “That’s...kind of crazy. So we’re all connected? She can feel all of us? Or will be able to?” Scott’s brows furrowed how the hell was that supposed to work? Lydia was already having issues that were affecting her physically because of Stiles emotions, Scott couldn’t imagine what it would be like with all of them.   
  
“Sort of. Actually...if Peter’s telling the truth then it might be turn out that Lydia’s not the only one who’s a different sort of pack member than the rest of you.” He hesitated, chewing on his thumbnail. “Apparently the pack’s banshee and the pack’s emissary...are also connected. And the pack’s emissary is connected to the rest of the pack.” He glanced at Scott sideways, arching his eyebrows.   
  
Scott cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure that’s what he said? I mean, because we don’t even have an emis-” Scott’s words died off when he made the connection. He turned his head to look at Stiles. “Lydia is connected to you...Are you connected to her too?” He asked curiously wondering if maybe that was Stiles’ point.   
  
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “But that just started basically.” He shifted on the couch, facing Scott. “So I think that maybe…” He hesitated. “You do have an emissary.”   
  
Scott’s eyes widened almost comically as he clamped a hand over Stiles shoulder, “Dude, you’re our emissary?” He asked as a hesitant grin pulled at his lips, “That’d be kind of awesome. I mean unless you don’t want that, then obviously we could you know figure it out.” He said realizing he probably shouldn’t have assumed that it would be a good thing.   
  
“Yeah, I think, maybe,” he said quietly, looking back down at his hands. “It’s part of why I need to talk to Deaton.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t that he _didn’t_ want it. Or that he hadn’t kind of suspected it ever since he’d created a mountain ash barrier around a building with the _force of his will._ It was that with as screwed up as his life was, he wasn’t confident he’d be able to.   
  
Scott nodded, “We can go talk to him if you’re worried.” He was silent for a minute, “I wanted to talk to him about all this new stuff happening with me too. So, whenever you’re ready.” Scott said patting his friend’s back. “I know this is all a lot, but I think if we take things one day at a time we’ll get through it little by little.” He offered.   
  
He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Scott, he offered to give me something to block out memories,” he said, voice just barely audible.   
  
Scott pursed his lips. He couldn’t imagine what Stiles was going through remembering everything the Nogitsune did. It was obvious he was struggling and Scott hated that his best friend was hurting so bad and he couldn’t do anything about it. He wasn’t going to lie, they had all sort of hoped that he didn’t get his memories back, but at the same time if he didn’t deal with the fallout now, it was always be there lurking in the back of his mind.   
  
“You know that I will support you whatever you choose to do,” he commented, “But I want you to think about this, really think about it. Whatever Deaton gives you, are you prepared to take it for the rest of your life? I mean...I don’t know. I don’t want you to have to go through the pain of remembering all of this stuff, but at the same time along with all the bad there’s some good too.” He pointed out. “You made it through the whole thing alive; you fought this thing off like no one before you could. Despite what you think, you were strong and I feel like that triumph isn’t something you should forget.” He said quietly.   
  
“At the same time though, I can feel some of what you’re feeling and if what’s happened to Lydia in the past because of stuff you were feeling is anything to go by...it’s bad. So I get not wanting to keep that either.”   
  
And for all the reasons that Scott had just listed, Stiles had turned Deaton down initially on the offer. Plus some part of him was scared that he’d have some kind of adverse reaction to whatever the magic pills were and he’d wind up forgetting everything. His friendship with Scott, his feelings for Lydia, his _dad_. It terrified him. And with the penchant he had for finding trouble without looking, he wasn’t sure actively seeking it out was a great plan either.   
  
“Yeah, I know,” he murmured. But truthfully the majority of the reason he was considering it so seriously was to give them all a break. Everyone was exhausted. Everyone’s lives were turned upside down, utterly, because of the things he’d done. Because of the trauma he was trying to deal with. Lydia and Scott could actually _feel_ his emotions and that was unsettling in so many ways.   
  
But maybe Deaton would have other suggestions about how to block the emotions from the two of them. There was no reason either should have to suffer just because he was emissary-pack connection or not. If that was even what it was. And since Deaton was also an emissary, he was the best person to talk to about how to deal with that if that’s what was going on.   
  
Scott could see his friend lost in his thoughts and he squeezed his shoulder, “Either way, we’ll get through this man, I promise. Until then...one day at a time.” He reminded him. “Do you want me to call Deaton?” He asked, “See if maybe he’s free to talk tonight after dinner or tomorrow?”   
  
“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” he said quietly. “And I don’t...wanna say anything to our parents until I have more answers.” He didn’t like keeping them in the dark, but there was no reason to tell them what they suspected on the off chance that he was wrong, or that Peter had given them misinformation. And if it had suited him at the time, he knew the older werewolf would’ve done just that.   
  
Scott smiled, “You got it. I’ll call after dinner. Until then, want to play some Mario Kart?” He asked sending his friend a sideways glance.   
  
“Yeah, sounds good.” He bumped into Scott’s shoulder with his own lightly. “But you get to set it up.”   
  
Scott huffed jokingly, “Oh fine,” he grinned and pushed himself off the couch, glad that Stiles was at least talking to him about what was going on in his head.   
  
Stiles smiled back, shaking his head and relaxing onto the sofa. He was glad it was almost the weekend. He needed to take time and sit down to work on his homework before he fell too much farther behind. Besides, maybe if he just focused, he’d be able to get past this the old fashioned way. Hopefully.   


______

  
  
Isaac walked out of the Argents guestroom, his cell phone in hand. He made his way down the hallway slipping his phone in his pocket when he reached Allison’s bedroom door. He had just gotten off the phone with Ms. McCall, she was checking in on him making sure the Argents were treating him okay and asking if he needed her to send him some food. A small grin appeared on his lips. Scott’s mom was the best, he missed her.   
  
But Isaac understood that Stiles needed her right now and it wasn’t like they’d be there forever. She’d told him she and Scott would most likely be home next week, which he was glad about, not that he didn’t like staying with Allison, he’d just be happy when he was back in his own space at the McCall’s.   
  
Isaac reached up and knocked on the door, his gaze traveling to the other end of the hallway where Mr. Argent’s office was. He was pretty sure the older hunter was working on a new deal for work. That or he just liked hanging out in his office which was possible.   
  
“Come in,” Allison called, looking up from where she was sprawled across the bed, open history book in front of her as she read the chapter they’d been assigned. Midterms were rapidly approaching and she’d fallen behind while Stiles had been possessed and then when she’d been injured during said possession. She wasn’t completely healed yet, but close enough. She still wasn’t able to participate in PE, though if she never had to run at the preserve again, she wouldn’t complain.   
  
Isaac pulled the door open and poked his head into Allison’s room. He grinned, “Hey, I’m bored, can I come in?” He asked stepping into her room and closing the door behind him before she could even answer.   
  
“Of course.” She smiled up at him and patted the spot on the bed beside her. “Not sure how unboring I’ll be though, considering.” She pulled the cover of her book up so he could see what it was, making a face.   
  
Isaac walked over to the bed and sat down beside her glancing over the large text book. “You should take a break,” he suggested as he brushed his hand down her arm. “How are you feeling?” He asked the concern in his voice clear. Isaac knew Allison was healing up nicely and she hadn’t had any trouble, but he still worried.   
  
Allison smiled faintly, marking her place in the book and shutting the covers. “All right. A break it is. I’m okay, Isaac. Hardly any pain left at all.” Not that she’d dealt with too much of it. He’d insisted on draining her pain on a regular basis.   
  
He nodded, “I’m glad,” he said resting his hand near hers, their fingers lightly touching. “I just got off the phone with Ms. McCall. She said they’ll probably be home next week,” he commented. There was pretty much only one thing he was going to miss about the Argent household and that was being so close to Allison. “I forgot to tell you, I had lunch with Scott and Kira today.”   
  
She considered that for a moment. “Well that’s good. That means that Stiles is getting better, right?” She arched her eyebrows, then looked down at their fingers, reaching out and sliding hers between his. “How did that go? Was everything okay?” There was a hint of worry in her voice.   
  
Isaac tilted his head. “I don’t know about Stiles, but Scott seemed okay today. It wasn’t as bad as last time...we actually talked a little. I think Kira is a calming influence on him,” he told her watching Allison’s face to see her reaction to his words.   
  
She smiled softly, looking up at him. “Good.” She knew she wasn’t Scott’s anchor anymore and she was okay with that. They’d both moved on. “Maybe we should plan to go see Stiles soon. I’ve texted with him a few times, but I feel like we should go and see him.”   
  
Isaac scratched the back of his head with his free hand and nodded, “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Who knows when he’s coming back to school,” he commented, “So yeah, it’ll be nice to see him and Ms. McCall,” he responded. “Have you talked to Lydia?” He inquired.   
  
She’d asked Stiles that very question over text and he’d simply responded with “not sure yet.” She didn’t want to push because it wasn’t like she was that close with Stiles, but she was concerned. “Yeah, I’m sure it will,” Allison said softly, looking down at the mention of Lydia. “No, not really.”   
  
Isaac brushed his thumb over her hand, “Well she hasn’t really been in school all that much,” he murmured, “I’m sure she’ll reach out to you once she comes back.” He reassured her knowing that even though she didn’t talk about it often she was upset that things with her and Lydia were rocky. “Things are gonna be okay.” He told her.   
  
“I know.” Her voice was more confident than she felt, though. The whole situation from beginning to end had been horrible for everyone. They hadn’t done very well at working together and cooperating and coming up with a plan, really.   
  
Then again, Stiles was usually the guy they looked to _for_ a plan.   
  
“I guess I’m just kind of realizing how we don’t really all function as a group all that well. Like there’s always these little divides.” She sighed softly. “Do you think all packs are like this?”   
  
Isaac was quiet for a minute, “I think there aren’t any packs like us out there.” He said with a small grin, “I mean what kind of pack can say that human members outnumber the actual wolves,” he joked. “We’ve got a hunter, a banshee, a Stiles,” he paused, “And then me and Scott...and possibly Derek too.”   
  
Isaac shifted turning his body towards Allison, “It’s weird even though Derek and Scott didn’t always get along Derek’s always been there for him and even now when everything went down I’ve gotta say I didn’t expect him to choose sides let alone the one he did.” Isaac sighed, “I think we all probably should have worked together, but sometimes it doesn’t work out that way. I’m loyal to Scott, but you’ll always be my first priority,” he whispered not used to feeling that way or verbalizing it.   
  
Allison shifted to her side too, propping her head up on one hand as she looked at him. “We are kind of a ragtag group,” she admitted. “And if you throw in my dad -- which I know is really iffy at this point, and Stiles’ dad, and Scott’s mom…” She wasn’t sure how that worked, really. It was all a strange concept, being part of a pack of werewolves when more of them were human than supernatural.   
  
She was quiet at the mention of Derek, considering Isaac’s words. “I think that deep down; Derek’s got a little bit of a soft spot for Stiles. I mean, Stiles has saved his life a few times, and it’s kind of hard not to feel a little attached to someone who does that.” She met his eyes, reaching out with her free hand and cupping his cheek, leaning forward to kiss him softly on the mouth.   
  
Isaac returned the kiss shifting closer to her and lifting his hand threading through her hair. It was soft and she smelled amazing, she always smelled amazing. He leaned into her deepening the kiss as he moved his mouth over hers. He broke the kiss a minute later and rested his forehead against hers. “I sure hope Derek’s not thanking Stiles the same way you are me,” he joked, a silly grin pull at his lips as he ran his free hand down her arm enjoying the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips.   
  
Allison wrinkled her nose. “Somehow I really doubt it. They just don’t seem like they’re _that_ into each other.” She chuckled, letting her eyes drift close and starting when her bedroom door opened. “God, Dad. Knocking. It’s a thing.” She sighed.   
  
Chris Argent eyed the two of them warily, gaze lingering momentarily on Isaac. “Sorry,” he said, not really sounding sorry at all. “How’s the studying going?” he asked meaningfully.   
  
“I’m allowed to take breaks.”   
  
“Not when they’re kissing breaks,” he deadpanned. Chris liked Isaac well enough. The kid had risked his life to save Allison and hadn’t left her side since the hospital, but he was still a werewolf and that meant Chris would never fully trust him with his baby girl. He stepped into the room, his hands rolling something over between them. “I was cleaning out the office and I found this,” he said pausing at the foot of the bed and holding it out to Allison. “Can you give it to Scott? And ask him to give it back to Stiles?”   
  
Allison’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked from him to the phone and back again. “Sure? But why do you have Stiles’ phone?” she asked, confused. She knew Stiles had recently gotten a _new_ phone because he’d misplaced his old one at some point while he was possessed, but she really couldn’t fathom why her dad had it or how he’d ended up with it.   
  
Chris hesitated, “He gave it to me the night he was cured,” he told them wanting to leave the conversation at that, but he could see the curiosity in their gazes.   
  
“You were there?” She narrowed her eyes at her dad.   
  
Chris sighed. “Stiles text me where he was...he didn’t want to hurt anyone else.” He told them as he crossed his arms over his chest.   
  
Isaac gulped, “You were there to… _stop_ him?” He asked.   
  
Chris’s gaze shifted to Isaac, “Weren’t you prepared to do the same thing?” He asked.   
  
Isaac winced and looked away from him. He still felt badly about how he handled things.   
  
“God.” Allison closed her eyes. “He tried _twice_. Does...does Scott know? Does his _dad_ know? Or Lydia?”   
  
Chris sighed, “Scott and Derek know, they were there,” more like they were the reason he had stopped. “I don’t believe the sheriff or Lydia know and it’s probably best to keep it that way,” he told them pointedly.   
  
Isaac made a face. “I’m certainly not telling them.” He snorted.   
  
“Yeah, but what if he needs _help_?” she pressed, looking between them. “I mean I know it’s not exactly flat out suicide, but it’s pretty close.” Her voice was full of worry.   
  
Chris tilted his head to the side, “He was doing the right thing. He was trying to protect the people he cares about because he was dangerous. But that’s not the case anymore.” He explained, “He’s got a bunch of people around him who care, I’m sure he’ll be okay, but if you want to bring it up I’m not going to stop you,” he added.   
  
Isaac glanced at Allison and squeezed her hand gently.   
  
“Maybe I’ll just...talk to Scott,” she said after a moment, looking from her dad to Isaac. “I’m sure he’s got a pretty good idea of how Stiles is doing mental-health wise at this point.” After all, Scott was literally living at the Stilinski’s at the moment. So if anyone knew how Stiles was really doing, it would be his best friend in the world.   
  
Chris nodded, “That’s probably best.” He told her before glancing between them. “Just make sure you let him know about the phone.” He hadn’t forgotten what Stiles said about the messages on his phone.   
  
It took her a moment to realize that her dad meant to let Scott know about the phone. “Right. Okay. I will.” She glanced at Isaac, and then down at the phone in her hand. Absently she wondered how many phones Stiles had gone through in the last few months. It seemed like he’d had to replace them more frequently than most. Then again, he was involved with the supernatural side of things pretty heavily and things like phones had the tendency to get broken pretty easily.   
  
Chris nodded and glanced between his daughter and Isaac, “Door open when you’re in here together,” he said with an eyebrow arched, “Got it?”   
  
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes, Dad,” she said, tone slightly annoyed.   
  
“Yes, Sir, Mr. Argent,” Isaac said immediately, much more obedient. But he had reasons to be. It wouldn’t be Allison that Chris killed for disobeying.   
  
Chris shook his head, “How is this my life?” He mumbled as he walked out of the room and into the hallway heading back to his office.   
  
Isaac was silent until he was sure Mr. Argent was locked away in his office. He had a feeling that the older man felt a lot guiltier than he let on. “I’m a little afraid that one of these days your dad is going to stop letting me get away with being in a room with you alone...half naked and or kissing.” He commented casually.   
  
Allison quirked an eyebrow at him. “One of these days I’m going to install a lock on my door, and possibly my own alarm system,” she informed him with a faint smirk.   
  
Isaac glanced at her, “Uh, it’s going to be an alarm to keep your dad out right? Not me?” He asked with half a grin.   
  
A short laugh escaped her and she leaned over and kissed him lightly in response. “Obviously.”   
  
The goofy grin was back on Isaac’s face. “Good.” He said as he cupped her cheek. “You know when I go back home, you’re welcome to visit...unless that would be weird for you,” he added realizing it might be since she dated Scott before him.   
  
There were so many ways that would be weird for her, but she didn’t say so. Instead, she just leaned into his touch. “We’ll figure it out.”   
  
Isaac nodded, “How about I lay up there,” he pointed to the top of the bed, “You come lay with me, and I’ll read that chapter you’ve been trying to study for to you,” he offered.   
  
She cocked her head, a smile pulling at her lips. “You’re going to read me the history chapter?” It was adorable and sweet and god, she was such a school girl with a crush it was ridiculous.   
  
“Yeah, you want to study, your dad wants you to study without me,” he shrugged, “I want to be in here with you, so we compromise.” He grinned, “I get to be with you, you get to study, everyone is happy.” He told her softly as he brushed his thumb over her cheek.   
  
“Okay.” She turned her head and kissed his thumb lightly, moving to sit up and picking up the text book, holding it out to him and moving to sit back against her pillows.   
  
Isaac shifted gripping the book with one hand and sliding his body back against the pillows. Once situated he took the time to wrap an arm around Allison pulling her into his side before opening the book. “Here we go, chapter 8,” he said with a smile before diving into the chapter calmly and slowly, all the while enjoying the feel of Allison in his arms.   


______

  
  
Stiles was doing his best to suppress his own anxiety as he followed Scott into Dr. Deaton’s office after dinner that night. Scott’s mom had cooked a really wonderful-smelling and tasting lasagna, which hadn’t tasted so wonderful when it came back less than twenty minutes after the dishes were done. His throat still hurt from throwing up and while he suspected that Scott had probably heard, he just hoped his dad and Scott’s mom were none the wiser. It was just nerves.   
  
“What time did he say he’d be here?” he asked as he paced the floor in the front of the office, rubbing the back of his neck as he moved. Stiles was perpetually in motion and had been since he was a kid. It was when he was still and silent that people should be worry.   
  
Scott could feel him getting worked up and he walked over and placed his hands on his best friend’s shoulders stilling his movements. “Hey, relax everything is going to be okay. He should be here any minute,” he promised. “Deaton will help us,” he said as he met his friends gaze.   
  
“I will definitely do my best to do that,” Deaton said coming up behind them, keys in hand. “Good evening boys,” he stepped around them and used his keys to open the door. He pulled it open and motioned for them to follow him inside, “What can I do for you?” He asked his tone light.   
  
Scott motioned for Stiles to go first.   
  
Stiles gave Scott a small smile even though the urge to pace didn’t dissipate. It rarely did if he was standing. Especially lately. He turned at the sound of Deaton’s familiar voice, pursing his lips. It had been awhile since he’d actually seen the doctor. Since the day that he’d yelled at him in the hospital, and that had been weeks ago. Fortunately, Deaton seemed to be a forgiving kind of person.   
  
“How do you know if you’re meant to be an emissary?” he asked without preamble.   
  
Deaton arched an eyebrow as he dropped the keys on the counter and opened the small swinging door to move into the back of the veterinary hospital. “That’s a very specific question,” he commented his gaze drifting to Stiles, studying the younger man.   
  
He unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged it off. “There’s no specific list of traits a person is required to have in order to be an emissary.” He said finally glancing between Stiles and Scott. “Typically an emissary is from a family of druids, one who has been education in the old teachings as well as the ones that have been passed down so they can relate to the packs,” he explained.   
  
“But it’s not unheard of to find an emissary that has no ties to being a druid personally, but is merely close to a pack and naturally talented with druid...magic is the wrong word, but essentially what it boils down to.” He told them calmly.   
  
Stiles listened intently as Deaton talked, chewing on his thumbnail. “So it’s usually more of a born thing that you grow up learning from people who actually know what they’re doing.” He questioned the flicker of actual disappointment he felt. He guessed that meant he’d had his answer about whether or not he wanted to be the pack’s emissary. He barely heard the rest of what Deaton said.   
  
Which meant this was probably a lot more likely that Peter had been bullshitting Lydia and Derek, and that this was all Lydia’s banshee powers, and Scott’s alpha powers and nothing to do with him.   
  
“No,” Deaton said, “What I’m saying is anyone can be an emissary. Beacon Hills hasn’t had very many packs living here. My family has always been attached to the Hale family, dating all the way back to my great grandfather, maybe even further.” He said while slipping his hands into his pockets.   
  
“My sister is the first from our family to stray to another pack.” He paused, “But now, the Hales are not the only werewolves in town,” his gaze fell to Scott. “And Scott’s pack is going to need an emissary. One that he trusts, one that can be trained to counsel him through the years.” Deaton met Stiles gaze. “One that I’ve been slowly training to be that person when it’s time.” He admitted lightly.   
  
All the air left Stiles’ lungs in a rush and he stared at Deaton for a long moment, trying to assess whether or not he was being serious. Realizing he was, his eyes widened just a little, and his stomach did a tiny nervous flip. “Like telling me that I was the only one who could pull off the mountain ash trick with the force of my will.” His heart was beating just a little faster, but not because he was scared, even if he kind of was. He looked at Scott sideways, raising his eyebrows.   
  
Scott could feel the nervousness coming from Stiles and he addressed Deacon, “Why didn’t you tell us? Me?” He asked not angry, just curious.   
  
Deaton was silent for a minute. “Yes, the mountain ash trick was a test. You passed,” he confirmed. “There is usually a reason for everything that I do. Scott you’re a different kind of alpha, a true alpha. You’re outlook on the world as whole isn’t as grim as a lot of the other packs.” He explained to both of them.   
  
“Your pack consists of both humans and wolves a distinction that other packs might think is a weakness, but in truth it’s a strength.” He took a breath, “Scott needs an emissary who understands that, someone who is close to him and yet understands the need to make hard choices and can council Scott to make those choices. Someone who can guide him in the right direction taking into account his safety above all else so the pack survives and honestly with the close relationship the two of you share there was never any real doubt in my mind that you wouldn't eventually take on an emissary role in Scott’s pack.”   
  
Stiles fell silent as Deaton explained. It wasn’t like they didn’t know that Scott’s pack wasn’t just wolves. That wasn’t a surprise to hear him talk about. He knew the pack wasn’t the norm. They may have been the only pack on the planet that actually had members who weren’t wolves. It was a unique situation. _Someone who can guide him in the right direction taking into account his safety above all else._ Stiles knew that getting Scott to take care of himself first would always be an uphill battle and he glanced at his best friend sideways.   
  
Scott stood there quietly for a minute digesting what Deaton said. “That’s why I can feel Stiles,” he said quietly. “Lydia too. Just like I feel Isaac and Derek.” He said meeting Deaton’s gaze. “And the other stuff...is it going to keep getting stronger?”   
  
Deaton watched Scott for a moment before sighing. “It depends on how long it takes you to learn how to control it. Notice how you only feel Isaac and Derek if they need you, if they’re in trouble,” he added. “It’s different with Stiles and Lydia you need to learn how to block out the regular emotions.” He explained.   
  
Scott pursed his lips. “And Lydia, what about her?”   
  
Deaton arched an eyebrow and glanced between Scott and Stiles, “What about her?”   
  
“How do we do that? Block things from each other? And from Lydia? And her from us?” Stiles asked, taking a deep breath. “Like I can see where it would come in handy if one of us was in trouble but when we’re not, it’s not great.” Especially right now, he thought. “What do we do? Is there another ritual or something? Maybe a pill…?”   
  
Deaton frowned zeroing in on one part of Stiles’ words. “Are you telling me you’re feeling Lydia?” He asked keeping his gaze on Stiles.   
  
“And vice versa. It just started for me, but she’s been dealing with it for awhile now.” He didn’t like the look that Deaton was giving him. It made him nervous. “Why?”   
  
Deaton cleared his throat, “Lydia is different she’s a banshee. She can’t block out your feelings. She needs to open herself up to them. The more she tries to fight them the more painful it will get for her.” He said, his brows drawing together. “It must be the connection between the two of you,” he said quietly. “If you’re starting to feel her emotions, you need to let it progress the natural way, don’t pull back from it.” Deaton told him, his tone serious.   
  
“With Lydia her abilities in time will grow and in order for that progress to not hurt her there needs to be an exchange of emotion between the two of you. She needs to let you in and then once that happens the two of you will both be able to control the intensity of the bond between you.”   
  
Scott rubbed the back of his head, “This is all so confusing,” he sighed. “So I can block them, but Lydia can’t block us?”   
  
Deaton nodded. “Her connection to the rest of you won’t be as strong as her connection to Stiles. She’ll be able to feel if anyone in the pack is in trouble, but that’s the extent of her connection to them.”   
  
“Okay but the stuff she’s getting from me right now isn’t really anything good and it’s stressing her out. So what can we do until we can figure out how to get it under control?” Stiles asked, not liking the way this was going.   
  
Scott glanced between Stiles and Deaton. He hesitated, “What about the pills you told Stiles about?” He asked softly.   
  
Deaton glanced from Stiles to Scott and back. “What I have will suppress the memories so they aren’t so clear. You won’t be able to relive images, but it won’t take away the knowledge of what the Nogitsune did.” He said honestly. “But Stiles, hear me clearly embrace the connection you have with Lydia, do not try to fight it. You won’t like the results.”   
  
“What does that mean? Be less vague please. What happens if I don’t embrace the connection with Lydia?” he asked, shifting his gaze from Scott to Deaton and folding his arms across his chest.   
  
Deaton sighed, “It’s not a science, Stiles. I don’t know. I’ve never seen this kind of connection before. I’ve read a few things, but,” he paused. “It’s never good to go against what’s meant to be. It throws off the balance.”   
  
He knew that druids were all about balance. Deaton had told him that months ago, when the sacrifices started happening. And then he’d spent even more time reading about it. Had started collecting books on rituals and druidism and various different kinds of mythology and studying all of them every chance he had. All earth-based religions seemed to revolve heavily around the idea of balance.   
  
He rubbed his hands over his face tiredly. Shit. This wasn’t good at all.   
  
Scott glanced at Stiles with a frown when he felt his anxiety increasing. Deaton watched the exchange and pointed to Stiles as he spoke to Scott. “You’re feeling him right now aren’t you?”   
  
Scott nodded, “Yeah. You said I can control this...how?” It wasn’t that Scott didn’t want to feel his best friend or Lydia. It was just that there was a lot going on and being able to sense things, people, and emotion, well it was getting to be a lot for him.   
  
Deaton sent him a thoughtful look, “Honestly, if you looking for lessons on how to control emotion I would ask Derek. He’s been an alpha before so he probably knows what you’re experiencing now, which is normal by the way,” he added.   
  
“Sorry,” Stiles muttered, glancing at Scott sideways. “Okay so I can’t shut off the connection with Lydia, so what about the one with Scott? What can I do to block that until he can control it?” He chewed on his lower lip nervously, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. “There has to be something right? What about just...figuring how to shut down my own emotions somehow, at will?”   
  
Deaton arched an eyebrow at Stiles. “I’m not sure anyone can just shut down their emotions,” he commented, “But I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try. I’ll give you some literature to take home no guarantees though.” He said not wanting to give Stiles false hope.   
  
To be honest at this point, he was willing to try and do just about anything to keep Scott and Lydia from having to deal with his baggage. There wasn’t any reason either of them should have to carry it. “All right. Give me everything you’ve got.”   
  
Deaton nodded, “I’ll go grab some of those books for you, I’ll be right back.” He told before walking over to his office.   
  
Scott watched Deaton go and when he was out of sight he spoke softly. “I’m sorry this trip hasn’t been as helpful as I thought it would be,” Scott said glancing at his friend. “I know you were hoping for better solutions.” He added reaching over and squeezing his friend’s shoulder.   
  
“It’s not me I’m worried about.” Stiles sighed softly, looking at Scott.   
  
Scott nodded, “I know. I’ll be okay, too. I can handle it until I figure out how to block the emotions. I don’t want you to worry too much, man. It’s okay,” he said quietly. Scott would figure it out.   
  
“I don’t want to overwhelm you guys. And I know I have been. And that’s just making it worse for all of us.” Stiles gave him a troubled look.   
  
Scott’s brows drew together. “I’ll talk to Derek soon and figure out how to block it, I promise. As for Lydia,” Scott paused, “Maybe you guys should listen to Deaton. If you both stop trying to fight the connection maybe it will actually help.” He suggested.   
  
“I don’t think feeling the overwhelming amount of guilt, and anxiety and just --” The words _utter despair_ came to mind, but he didn’t say that. “Everything. I don’t think that’s going to help her at all. I need to just figure out a way to turn it off.” He exhaled tiredly.   
  
Scott opened his mouth right to say something as Deaton came back into the room with two books, “Here they are. Keep them as long as you need.” He said before reaching into his pocket with his free hand and pulling out an orange prescription bottle, without a label. “Here are the pills if you decide to go that route. But remember, it represses the image of the memory so that you can’t easily conjure it. It does not make you forget what he did.”   
  
“Is it permanent? If I take them? Or do I have to keep taking them in order for it to keep working?” Stiles reached out and took the books and the bottle of pills, looking at the pill bottle in his hands. He suspected it was the latter. “And will they interact with Adderall?”   
  
Scott watched them closely as Deaton spoke. “You’ll have to keep taking them at least until you’ve come to terms with what happened. Once you have if you stop the memories will still be faded, but even if they come through...it won’t hurt the way it does now.” He told the teenager in front of him. “You should be fine with the Adderall,” he added, “But try not to have too much caffeine the combination of all three might keep you awake at night.”   
  
“And if I don’t sleep, they don’t sleep.” Stiles sighed, rubbing his hand over his face and looking at Scott. “And neither does my dad.” Or Scott’s mom when she was over. “Got it.” He tucked the bottle into his jeans’ pocket and exhaled.   
  
Scott sent Deaton half a smile. “Thanks for the help. I’ll go talk to Derek this weekend.” Tomorrow was Friday so he’d set aside some time on Saturday to talk to the other werewolf hoping that he’d be slightly more helpful than Deaton.   
  
Deaton nodded, “Anytime...and remember what I said, both of you. It really is better to embrace the changes rather than push them aside. Balance is important. Without it...well we don’t know what can happen.”   
  
“Thanks, Deaton,” Stiles said quietly, nodding at him. “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the near future.” He glanced at Scott, then headed for the door.   
  
Scott nodded at Deaton and then followed Stiles out of the building. He glanced sideways at his friend. “Are you going to tell Lydia?” He asked while pulling the keys to Stiles’ jeep out of his pocket.   
  
“About being the pack’s emissary?” He didn’t look at Scott as he moved to the passenger side of the vehicle.   
  
Scott walked to the driver’s side and pulled open the door, “About any of it.” He said while getting in, pulling the door shut, and starting the jeep.   
  
He let out a breath, climbing into the seat and pulling on his seatbelt. “Yeah. Yeah, probably.”   
  
Scott nodded as he put the car in gear. “I think that’s a good idea.” He told his friend quietly while pulling out into the street. The last thing they needed was to start keeping secrets from each other.   
  
“Even if I tried to lie about it, she’ll feel that I’m lying, so it kind of defeats the purpose, right?” He chewed on his lower lip.   
  
Scott sent a quick glance in Stiles direction before returning his gaze to the road. He wasn’t sure if his friend sounded angry, annoyed or something else entirely. “Look, I know this isn’t ideal, but trust me we’ve gotten through worse than being able to feel each other’s feelings...that sounded weird,” Scott sighed.   
  
Mostly Stiles was just tired. And frustrated. “Have we?” His voice was almost inaudible.   
  
Scott arched an eyebrow keeping his eyes on the road. “Well personally I felt the possession part of our relationship wasn’t our finest moment,” he commented lightly, joking, “So if we’re talking Nogitsune verses feeling each other’s emotional states I’m gonna go ahead and say yeah, we’ve been through worse and gotten to the other side in one piece, mostly.”   
  
Stiles winced at that, rubbing a hand over his face. Mostly, he thought, looking out the window. He was just going to have to focus on getting his own emotions under control, no matter how difficult it was. “Yeah, I guess you have a point there. At least I’m not actively killing anyone.”   
  
Scott swallowed hard, “That’s not what I meant,” he told his friend quietly. He was silent for a minute, “Look, I know I’ve said this before, but I know this is hard. I know we have no idea how hard it is to live with the kind of things the Nogitsune did in your body, but Stiles you’ve gotta give yourself a break.” He responded, his voice calm, but sad.   
  
“I don’t know how many times we can tell you this wasn’t your fault. We _love_ you and while he did terrible things, you didn’t do them. You’re a victim...just like everyone else the Nogitsune hurt.”   
  
“No, I know. I know it wasn’t what you meant.” He sighed, leaning his head against the glass window of the passenger season. The problem was, he tended to blame himself for a lot of things that he wasn’t really to blame for. Even as a kid. Someone had to take responsibility for the crap that happened. It was just the way of the world. Stiles really just needed to learn how to keep his mouth shut sometimes. How was he going to be any kind of decent emissary between being a wreck and being as sarcastic as he was all the time?   
  
Scott reached out with his free hand keeping the other securely on the wheel. He squeezed Stiles shoulder. “We’ll get through this. I know I keep saying that, but it’s because it’s true and until then...one day at a time.”   
  
Stiles glanced at him sideways, sighing softly again and nodding. His best friend was an eternal optimist. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. Maybe he just needed to start having more faith in Scott. Or trying to be more like Scott in general. “Yeah. One day at a time,” he echoed quietly.


	12. Chapter 12

Lydia parked her car beside Derek’s truck and shut off the engine. It was Sunday early afternoon and she’d been feeling cooped up at the Stilinski house. Scott and Stiles were hanging out and she hadn’t wanted to interrupt them. Despite all of Stiles’ reassurances, Lydia couldn’t help feeling like she was intruding on their time together.   
  
Plus, the emotions running back and forth between Stiles and Scott had been giving her a pretty bad headache. She kept trying to smother the feelings down, but it didn’t matter what she did they still slammed into her every now and then Stiles would get worked up.   
  
Lydia sighed, shook her head and glanced in the rearview mirror at her face, “You’re not doing this today Martin. You got up, did your hair and makeup, went out, and now you’re going to have fun with a friend...remember fun?” She asked herself as she ran her finger below her lip fixing her lip-gloss.   
  
She grabbed both bags from the seat beside her and pushed the door open stepping out, bags in hand as she made her way toward Derek’s building. Her four inch heels clicked loudly against the floor, the slightly cooler weather unexpected and appreciated. The green dress she wore fell lower in the back and had a higher hem in the front. It was perfect for the weather. Lydia made her way up the stairs grumbling at the lack of a working elevator as she lugged the two large bags with her.   
  
She finally made it to the top of the staircase with a huff and walked over to Derek’s apartment. Lydia knocked and then tugged on the handle, surprised to find the door open. _Someone’s getting careless_ , she thought to herself as she walked into the apartment. “Derek, come out, come out wherever you are,” she called out brightly, “I brought gifts!”   
  
Instead of Derek, another familiar face appeared in front of her, cocking an eyebrow at the redhead and eying the bags in Lydia’s hands. Cora crossed her arms over her chest. “And why are we bringing my brother gifts?” she asked, voice sharp but not mean. “Don’t tell me the two of you are dating.”   
  
Lydia paused at the sight of Cora in front of her. _Lovely._ Just the she wolf she _didn’t_ want to see. “Well I’d definitely be a step up from his typical homicidal type,” she quipped eyebrow arched. “I thought you were in South America.” She said with a sigh as she continued walking into the apartment and set the bags down on Derek’s couch.   
  
“And he’d be a step up from your murderous type, too, so I guess you’d both come out winners,” Cora responded. “And I was. Derek called and told me what was going on back here. So I figured maybe it was better that I come back for the time being.” She watched as Lydia set the bags down, regarding her curiously. “So if you’re not dating, then…?”   
  
Lydia tried not to visibly flinch at Cora’s comment about Aiden. She swallowed hard and pushed aside the guilt that churned in her stomach. Lydia turned around to face Cora, perfectly composed. “Maybe we’re sleeping together,” she threw out with a smirk, “Or possibly we’re friends.” Lydia was pretty sure that was an accurate description of what they were. At least she considered him a friend, she wasn’t really sure what Derek considered her.   
  
“Maybe I’ll toss my lunch or maybe I’ll punch you in the face,” Cora retorted, rolling her eyes. She looked over her shoulder, toward the spiral staircase. “DEREK! There’s a redhead down here to see you.”   
  
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m incredibly terrified of you. You might want to work on that whole anger issue thing I hear it can cause all kinds of physical ailments.” She said turning back to the bags and proceeding to ignore Cora.   
  
Derek winced at his sister’s louder voice as he made his way down the spiral staircase. “Is all the yelling really necessary?” He asked Cora with an arched brow.   
  
“Yes,” Cora responded, giving him a look. She ignored Lydia’s comments entirely and moved farther away from the pair, heading into the kitchen. She had a gambit of reasons for not liking Lydia Martin, not the least of which was she’d continued seeing Aiden after Aiden and Ethan had brutally murdered Boyd.   
  
Lydia turned when she heard Derek’s voice and smiled pretending Cora wasn’t there, “Finally, so I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in, but I figured its Sunday, Derek’s probably not doing anything.” She pointed toward the bags, “And I brought gifts.”   
  
Derek blinked a couple of times, raising his eyebrows. “You...brought gifts?” he echoed, looking confused. “For what? It isn’t my birthday.”   
  
Amusement crossed Lydia’s face, “I’m so glad you asked.” She reached inside one bag and pulled out a thin packet of paint samples. “Now that you’ve decided to come out of your shell and interact with us human--marginally human types, it’s time we did something about this place.” Lydia glanced around distastefully. “I’m not entirely sure how you live here, though according to Stiles it’s a step up from before.”   
  
His lips twitched involuntarily at the corners. “So you’ve decided you’re going to paint the loft?” There was a hint of amusement in his tone. “Because I have to admit, Lydia, I didn’t take you as a home improvement kind of girl.”   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow and stepped forward, “Oh Derek,” she patted his chest lightly before stepping back over to the bag, “I understand the confusion. I am after all the one holding the paint swatches,” she said shifting it in her hand as she grabbed a second one from the bag and turned back around to face him.   
  
“I’ll clarify for your edification. I don’t do manual labor of any kind. I’m against sweating for purposes that aren’t running for my life or sexual gratification, therefore we’re going to pick a color and by we I mean me. You’ll get choices though and then _you’re_ going to paint the loft with my supervision of course,” she explained casually.   
  
“Those wolfy muscles have to be good for something right. We’ll need to move furniture, get tarps, I’m thinking something on the lighter side to open up the room,” she pondered.   
  
Derek shook his head, “Way too much information,” he informed her. He eyed the color swatches in her hand and glanced around, sighing a little and moving to sit on the sofa. He motioned for her to do the same. “Also I vote we make this a pack event because this place is huge. So I’ll just be calling Scott and Isaac and they can get their asses over here if we’re gonna turn my place into pack central.”   
  
“Don’t,” She said immediately and then paused swallowing hard. Her heartbeat elevating in her chest despite her attempt to get it to stop. “Scott is with Stiles. I’m not entirely sure where Isaac is, most likely with Allison.” Her best friend that she still hadn’t talked to, then again she hadn’t been back to school yet, so there was that. Lydia was going back on Monday though, so maybe she’d run into her friend then.   
  
Derek frowned at her immediate response, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder when he heard her heart jump. He looked at her with concerned eyes, but didn’t remark. “Right. Okay. Then we can do the painting another day.” He took the paint swatches from her hand and flipped through them.   
  
Lydia watched Derek for a minute, “No, you’re right...but we should probably pick out colors and get stuff before you call them.” She said changing her mind knowing she couldn’t hide all day. But she just needed some time. It was why she’d found herself shopping and heading to Derek’s. Because when she was with him...she felt safe.   
  
Her emotions were stable and she didn’t have to think about everything that was bothering her. Somehow Derek Hale had become her escape and Lydia wasn’t sure whether that should be troubling or if she should just be grateful. At the moment she was going with both. Because she couldn’t be strong for Stiles if she wasn’t strong for herself first.   
  
“Are you all right?” Derek lowered his voice as he looked back at her. He wasn’t sure she’d even answer considering Cora would be able to hear and he knew his sister and Lydia really didn’t like one another.   
  
Lydia hesitated for less than a second before smiling, “Of course I am,” she said her response a little too bright. “Now let me show you the pillows.” she dipped her hands into the bag beside Derek and pulled out two small throw pillows, both were a deep red. “I thought you could use a little color for the couch.” She explained.   
  
“You brought me throw pillows.” He hadn’t missed her hesitation, but Derek wasn’t going to push the issue either. At least not right now. Maybe later. He looked down at the couch they were sitting on, realizing it did kind of make the couch a little more lively looking.   
  
“Yes, of course. I figured red was manly and yet still colorful.” She told him placing them on the couch while reaching into the bag again. “Maybe we can do the walls a cream color or a pale salmon to offset the red.” She explained while pulling out a set of sheets. “These are a nice thread count plus they’ll match the pillows and couch. I’m thinking we might go for black and white theme with hints of color thrown in, maybe even make the molding red...we’ll have to see,” she babbled.   
  
Derek considered her words, blinking when she pulled out sheets next. She’d bought him _sheets._ He really wasn’t sure what to do with all of this, because it was so unexpected. And of course his very jaded little sister was there to witness it, which just made it all very strange. “Thread count?” he echoed. “You lost me.”   
  
Lydia sighed, “I don’t know what to do with you.” She said pushing the bag onto the floor and sitting beside him. “The higher the thread count on sheets the softer they are.” She told him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I got ones that are nice and high. You’ll sleep good and possibly not be so cranky, then again I’m starting to think that’s part of your charm,” she joked.   
  
Lydia stood, “I even got matching-” her words died on her lips and she nearly pitched forward at the rush of emotion that slammed into her, turning her stomach and practically making her sick. _Stiles_. It had been happening on and off the past couple of days and usually when it hit it only lasted for a couple of minutes before every emotion was gone almost like he was attempting to shut everything off for her benefit. The problem was all that did was make these small burst of emotion she kept getting incredibly intense and sometimes painful.   
  
A small noise fell from her throat and she grabbed for the arm of the couch.   
  
“Hey. Lydia. Hey.” Derek quickly reached out and caught her before she could stumble any farther. “Okay. You need to sit down.” He sat down beside her, moving the shopping bags aside and resting a hand on her back. “Stiles?” he guessed, watching her closely.   
  
Lydia squeezed her eyes shut; her heartbeat went from beating normal to pounding rapidly in her chest within seconds. She clutched the couch cushion in one palm, her hand curling around the soft material as she struggled to breath. Lydia gave a short jerky nod signaling she’d heard his question. Her face paled and her stomach rolled again as waves of guilt washed over her.   
  
Lydia could feel her heartbeat pounding in her ears and then as quickly as it came it was gone. The presence of Stiles’ emotions were completely drained from her body leaving her shaky and exhausted. Lydia swallowed hard. “Sorry,” she got out a minute later her voice strained as she avoided Cora’s gaze that she could feel on them from across the room.   
  
“It’s okay,” Derek assured her, troubled expression on his face. He glanced toward the kitchen where Cora was, actually looking concerned.   
  
“Okay, so is someone gonna fill me in on what’s going on? Why did you ask her about Stiles just then after she almost collapsed?” Cora’s voice was worried as she moved to the living room where they were.   
  
Derek pursed his lips and glanced from his sister to Lydia. “It’s complicated,” he responded rubbing his hand against Lydia’s back slowly trying to help her relax.   
  
Lydia knew it wasn’t all that complicated and that Derek wasn’t telling Cora because he wasn’t sure she would like that. And Lydia appreciated that. “He’s fine now,” Lydia commented mostly to Derek as she glanced up at Cora.   
  
Cora folded her arms across her chest, clearly not particularly pleased by the answer. “Right. Well I guess I’ll just have go check on him myself then.” She didn’t wait for a response before heading for the door without looking behind her.   
  
Derek grimaced. Great way to start out the reunion party, he thought with a sigh, looking back at Lydia with an apologetic look.   
  
Lydia watched her go and her chest tightened at Cora’s words. She had seemed genuinely worried about Stiles. “I didn’t realize your sister and Stiles were so close,” she mumbled before pushing herself up onto shaky legs. Lydia took a deep breath and let it out, her body finally calm again.   
  
“Stiles assures me that they’re just friends.” Derek cast a wary glance after Cora. “Something about how they kept getting thrown together.” He shrugged and looked back at Lydia.   
  
Lydia nodded, “Yeah,” she responded distractedly as she glanced around the apartment. Lydia felt like she was coming apart. She had so much going on, in her head, in her heart, in her body. There were all these feelings and emotions she didn’t know how to deal with. Her mom was gone, Stiles was far from okay, and he seemed to be pulling away from her- them, she corrected.   
  
Lydia was exhausted. She needed some kind of break because at this point she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep going like this. She cleared her throat, “There are curtains too,” she said suddenly her voice low.   
  
“Thank you, Lydia. For doing all of this.” He hesitated. “No one’s ever bought me curtains before,” he admitted. “I mean not since I was a kid.” He looked at her, then reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder once more, wishing there was something else he could do for her. But he had no idea what it would be.   
  
Lydia finally met Derek’s gaze, not quite able to hide the moisture in her eyes. She sent him half a smile, “Even you need someone looking after you every once in a while,” she admitted. “We all care about you. I know we can be a pain sometimes, but we’re all in this together.” Lydia said quietly her chest tightening. “Do you think I can have some water? Then we should probably call the guys and get started.”   
  
“Yeah of course,” he said quietly, squeezing her shoulder before heading to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water for her.   
  
Lydia turned and sat on the couch lifting one of the pillows into her lap as she watched Derek from across the room. All she needed to do was relax, stay calm and let her thoughts drift away. She was going to spend the next few hours helping get Derek’s apartment in order and keeping her mind off of everything else.   


______

  
  
Stiles had to admit that Scott was getting a lot better at handling his random panic attacks. It was like he was actually almost predicting them. He figured it was mostly because Scott could hear the increase in his heartbeat and just sense it, the way he’d once sensed before Erica had a seizure. “Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face as he leaned over the bathroom sink, letting the cold water continue to run for the time being. One minute he’d been sitting in the living room with Scott watching Terminator II and the next he’d been setting a bomb up at the sheriff’s station. It felt like he’d actually been right there, packing a neat package full of nuts and bolts and broken glass and other tiny sharp and deadly objects.   
  
The memory was sickeningly vivid. He remembered trying so hard to reason with the monster inside of him, begging him not to hurt his dad. _Not him. Not my dad._ But that had been its goal. It had wanted to cause that kind of pain because it had been feeding off his pain. His fear.   
  
Scott stood in the bathroom doorway watching Stiles as his friend rubbed his hands over his face. “You don’t need to apologize,” he responded. “We should have watched a comedy,” he added. Scott was worried, but he was getting better at catching the warning signs of Stiles getting upset or having an attack, which helped Scott calm Stiles down sooner.   
  
“Hey, have you found anything helpful in those books?” Scott asked. It had been a few days since they saw Deaton and he couldn’t help being curious.   
  
“I’ve seen Terminator II like eight hundred times. I could play the whole thing in my head without actually turning the DVD on.” He sighed, drying his face off with a towel and then wiping his hands as well. He exhaled slowly, before turning to face his best friend once more.   
  
“I keep reading a lot about meditation, but can you actually picture that going well? I can’t sit still for more than like, two minutes at a time as it is. How am I going to meditate?”   
  
Scott shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt. We could try it together,” he offered figuring it probably couldn’t hurt. Maybe meditation would help him learn how to better control his alpha abilities too.   
  
Stiles couldn’t help but smile at the offer. It was just like Scott to offer to help him _meditate_. He hesitated, then wrapped his arms around his friend wordlessly in response.   
  
Scott reciprocated wrapping his arms around his best friend tightly. He wished he knew how to help Stiles, but he didn’t. Scott would be damned though if he didn’t try everything he possibly could to help no matter what it was.   
  
“Am I interrupting something?” Cora inquired, eyebrow arched, amusement coloring her voice as she spotted Scott and Stiles in the hallway near the bathroom hugging. Scott’s mom had let her in and told her to head right to Stiles bedroom, but she’d spotted them on the way.   
  
Stiles let go of Scott, eyes widening as he turned toward the familiar voice. He grinned at her. “You don’t call, you don’t write. You skip town without a goodbye. What’s that about, Tiny Wolf?”   
  
Cora let a genuine smile slip, “You know how it is, things to do, places to be.” She commented casually before stepping forward and sliding her arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, something that wasn’t usually her style. Stiles was a decent guy and even though she’d probably never admit it out loud they had a connection, one she sort of missed while in South America. “I’m glad you’re okay.” She told him quietly.   
  
“Uh huh. Just in too big of a hurry to get the hell away from Beacon Hills,” he said lightly, hugging her back. He pulled away to look at her and then glanced back at Scott. “Not that anyone can blame you for that really.” Hell maybe if he’d gotten the hell out of Beacon Hills, things would have been very different for everyone. “Derek mentioned you were coming back. Planning to stay for awhile?” There was a hint of hopefulness in his voice.   
  
Scott watched their interaction with curiosity. He hadn’t realized that Cora and Stiles had gotten so close, then again there had been a lot going on.   
  
Cora grinned at Stiles and hit him lightly in the chest. “You bet your ass. Apparently you can’t be left to your own devices. I’m gone a couple of months and what the town turns upside down?” She asked with an arched eyebrow.   
  
Stiles smiled faintly at that. “Apparently not. And not the whole town. You know, just the parts I happened to be in at the time.”   
  
Cora sent him half a smile, but she could practically smell the guilt radiating off of him. “Alright skin and bones, lay off the drama, you and me are gonna spend some quality time together,” she told him, her smirk back in place. “How do you feel about sour patch kids and comedy movies? I’m thinking you, me and some movie marathon fun.”   
  
At that exact moment, Scott’s cell phone rang and Stiles arched his eyebrows, glancing at his best friend and then turning back to Cora. “Yeah, okay. Scottie’s probably gonna join us after his phone call,” he added.   
  
Scott glanced at them, “Uh no it’s cool, its Derek I’m gonna take it in the other room and then probably do some homework.” He said smiling at his friend and patting him on the back. “It was nice seeing you Cora.”   
  
Cora watched him walk down the hall and answer the phone before turning to Stiles and rolling her eyes. “My brother is enlisting your friend in your girlfriend’s little project, so I guess it’s just us.”   
  
“My girlfriend’s project?” Stiles echoed, eyebrows furrowing. “What are you talking about?”   
  
Cora arched an eyebrow, “Oh you didn’t know that she apparently comes and goes from my brother’s loft like it’s her own.” Cora snorted. Okay she didn’t know if that was true, but Lydia had certainly let herself in that morning. “She bought Derek like pillows and sheets and stuff. She’s making him redecorate...then again I didn’t really see him complaining. It was weird.” She told him with a shake of her head.   
  
A flicker of jealousy passed through him and he immediately suppressed it. He’d known that Lydia and Derek were becoming friends, but she was buying him pillows and sheets and redecorating his place? “Yeah, that is weird. I mean that he’d even let her.” Then again, he knew Lydia and she pretty much did whatever she wanted, when she wanted. Even Derek couldn’t do much to stop someone like Lydia from getting her way.   
  
Cora nodded, “You’re telling me, what happened to my grumpy brother? He’s _nice_ to her. I feel like I’m in the twilight zone.” Cora sighed, “Anyway so I ditched them to come see how you are,” Cora explained, “Something weird happened and neither of them would tell me what so I figured I’d do a little detective work on my own.” She smirked.   
  
“Something weird, like what?” he asked, though he had an idea of what she may have witnessed that was weird that sent her coming to see him for herself. “And yeah, your grumpy brother’s less a sourwolf these days and more a…” He paused searching for the right word. “Nice wolf? I don’t know.” He wasn’t feeling particularly witty at the moment. He rarely did right after a major panic attack.   
  
Cora studied Stiles for a minute taking note of how tired he looked. Derek had told her things had gotten bad, but it was clear it might have been worse than he even mentioned. She lifted an arm and shifted on her feet. “She got sick or something. It looked like she almost passed out and her heartbeat when from 0-to-80 in a few seconds flat. But Derek didn’t seem surprised at all, and then he asked about you.” She pointed eyebrow arched question in her gaze.   
  
Oh. He let out a breath, looking down at the floor for a moment. “Yeah, things have...gotten really complicated,” he admitted. He hesitated, then looked back up at her again. “Scott and Lydia can both feel what I’m feeling and it’s apparently because I’m supposed to be Scott’s emissary.” He pursed his lips.   
  
Cora’s eyes widened, “You, an emissary?” She paused her expression turning thoughtful. “Actually, I can kinda see that. I mean you’re the one who’s always figuring things out and coming up with plans. You’re sort of Scott’s voice of reason.” Cora nodded, “Guess you’re more connected to us wolves then you thought.” She commented with a grin nudging his shoulder gently with her own.   
  
Stiles relaxed a little at her easy acceptance of the possibility. He hadn’t even told Isaac or Allison, or his dad or Scott’s mom because he just felt like maybe he was that far out of his league with all of this that they would look at him and just blink in confusion. But hell, if Cora’s reaction was that open to the possibility, he figured maybe the rest was all going to be much easier than he thought. He let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding since he’d told her. “I guess so. The boy who runs with wolves,” he joked, leading her down the stairs.   
  
Cora chuckled as she followed him, “More like boy who bosses wolves around,” she stated remembering Stiles barking orders or demanding things more than once while she was in town and people actually listening to him, her included.   
  
“Apparently that’s the official job description,” he said solemnly. Cora snorted as she stepped off the last stair, “Well don’t think you can boss around this wolf little emissary,” she grinned, “I’m pack free.”   
  
“We’ll see, Tiny Wolf,” Stiles responded with a faint smirk. “We’ll see.”   
  
Cora rolled her eyes at Stiles, “Idiot,” she said though the words were affectionate as she looped her arm through his and nodded. “Lead the way we’ll need snacks for our binge watching. And a fair reminder, I eat like a Hale.”   
  
Stiles smirked more at that. “Good thing Ms. McCall’s been cooking a lot, then,” he told her as he headed into the kitchen.   
  
Cora glanced around the kitchen spotting the woman who let her in wrapping up some food at the counter.   
  
Melissa turned around when she heard footsteps. She smiled at Stiles and the girl who’d come to visit him. Someone she didn’t know, but already liked when she saw the genuine grin on Stiles face’. Melissa smiled, “Hey you two, what’s going on?”   
  
“Cora’s apparently starving and she’s demanding some food for our movie marathon,” he told her. “And in case she forgot to introduce herself -- this is Cora Hale. And Cora, I’m sure Ms. McCall _didn’t_ forget to introduce herself, but she’s Scott’s mom.” He smirked at Cora.   
  
Cora had the decency to look sheepish for about a second. “Sorry about that and I wasn’t so much demanding food as I was asking,” she said jabbing Stiles lightly in the gut.   
  
Melissa chuckled at their playfulness. “It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t know your brother had any siblings.” left, she added silently. Melissa knew about the Hale fire all those years ago. “We’re glad to have you, you’ve got a pretty amazing brother you know that?” She asked while turning to the refrigerator. “What about some pudding and whip cream?” She asked over her shoulder.   
  
Stiles chuckled at the surprised look on Cora’s face at the mention of Derek being amazing. “You missed out on a lot,” he informed her, moving to help Ms. McCall by grabbing a couple of bowls down from the cabinet. And by a lot, he really meant _a lot._ The change in Derek was big, but not nearly as big as a lot of the other stuff.   
  
Cora stepped forward to help Stiles, “Seems like it.” She mumbled. Scott took that moment to walk into the kitchen keys and helmet in hand. He glanced at Stiles, “Hey dude, I’m gonna go out for a bit and help Derek with something, you’ll be okay?” He asked worried.   
  
Stiles hesitated a second when he turned to look at Scott, then drew in a breath, nodding. “Yeah, dude I’ll be fine.” He and Cora had some catching up to do anyway. She’d been gone for months. No doubt Derek had hit some of the memorable “highlights” but there was probably a lot he’d neglected to mention. The guy wasn’t very verbal.   
  
Scott paused at the hesitation and opened his mouth, but Cora cut him off.   
  
“He’s going to be just fine with me alpha boy. You can go save my brother from the banshee. We’ll be fine. I’ll take good care of him in your absence.” Cora said amused.   
  
Scott frowned, “Derek doesn’t need saving from Lydia. They’ve actually gotten pretty close,” he told her feeling a need to defend his friends, not even sure why.   
  
“She didn’t mean it like that,” Stiles assured him. Though given how much Cora and Lydia disliked each other, it might have actually been meant like that.   
  
Melissa looked around at the three of them, sensing the tension with her super-mom powers. “Right, well, you should go see what Derek needs and make sure you don’t spoil your appetite for dinner tonight.” She glanced at Stiles and Cora. Stiles got a pass because he really was skin and bones lately and it worried her. Cora got a pass because she was a guest in the house and she wasn’t even sure she’d be staying for dinner.   
  
Scott pouted his shoulders slumping slightly. “I won’t.” He said properly chastised before leaning over and pressing a kiss to his mom’s cheek. “I love you.” He glanced over at Stiles and Cora, “I’ll see you guys later, have fun.” He sent them half a smile before taking off through the kitchen door.   
  
Cora pursed her lips, “I guess I hit a nerve.” She said lightly her gaze drifting to Stiles, “So...movies?” Cora grinned.   
  
Melissa smiled faintly as she watched Scott head away, shaking her head a little.   
  
“Movies,” Stiles confirmed.   


______

  
  
Lydia held her purse in her hand as she walked up the Stilinski pathway spotting the light on in the kitchen. She was tired and despite the fun she’d had ordering Derek, Scott, and Isaac around, Lydia was still feeling out of sorts. She wasn’t entirely sure what was wrong with her. But she hadn’t felt this forlorn since Jackson left over a year ago.   
  
Lydia wanted nothing more than to be strong for Stiles so she could help him she just wasn’t sure how to and that killed her because he’d always been there to help her when she needed it. Lydia sighed and gripped the kitchen door turning the knob and pushing it open.   
  
She spotted Scott’s mom near the stove as she closed the door behind her. “Hi, Ms. McCall,” she greeted placing her purse down on one of the chairs and wondering where Stiles was.   
  
“Hi, Sweetheart,” Melissa greeted her as she pulled a pan of lasagna out of the stove. “How’s Derek?’ she asked curiously, glancing at Lydia over her shoulder. She still wondered what he’d called Scott about needing help.   
  
“He’s good. I had the boys repaint his apartment today,” she said stepping further into the room and slipping her hands into the pockets of her dress, “It looks nice. We added some curtains and cleaned up. It’s looking a lot more like an apartment now. I even had them plaster up the huge hole in the brick wall.” They’d argued with her about it, but in the end it made the most sense. Lydia explained they could add a door and Derek could make it Cora’s room if she planned to stay. After that he stopped protesting.   
  
Melissa smiled at that, patting her shoulder gently. “That was very considerate of you, Lydia.” She looked toward the living room and then back at her. “I think they’re finishing up a movie right now if you want to join them. Or you’re welcome to stay here with me.”   
  
Lydia titled her head to the side, “They?” She asked confused. There was no way Scott had beat her home. He was staying to help Derek and Isaac clean up the rest of the paint and things. He’d said he’d meet her back at Stiles house.   
  
“Oh.” She paused. “Stiles and Derek’s sister Cora.”   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Cora’s still here?” She asked, but obviously that was a stupid question since Scott’s mom had just said she was. It had been hours, she’d been gone most of the day. Lydia swallowed hard pushing away the immediate jealousy that sparked in her chest, “You know I don’t want to bother them,” she said keeping her voice light, “I think maybe I’ll just go do some homework.” She told Ms. McCall.   
  
“Sweetheart.” Melissa reached out and laid a hand on her arm, hesitating for a moment. “This probably isn’t any of my business, but Stiles loves you.” She gazed at Lydia intently. “I’m not talking puppy love.”   
  
Lydia opened her mouth, but closed it almost immediately not sure how to respond. It was rare that she was at a loss for words. “He used to,” she said her voice quiet. “Things are different now,” she paused at the sound of laughter coming from the living room and Lydia was pretty sure that hurt worse than anything else.   
  
She and Scott had been trying for weeks to make Stiles relax enough to let his guard down and while they’d had their fun moments, he hadn’t laughed like that in a while. “Maybe it’s for the best. We’re friends and I’m,” her words cut off, emotions building in her chest rapidly and for once they were hers. Lydia felt her heartbeat pick up speed and she closed her eyes briefly. “Stiles shouldn’t have to wait for someone who isn’t sure what she feels. It’s not fair to him.” Lydia whispered even though she was pretty sure she knew what she wanted despite the fact that she couldn’t seem to admit it out loud.   
  
Melissa smiled softly, shaking her head and pulling Lydia closer to her. “Did you know that Stiles has never had an actual crush on anyone except for you?” And if he had, it hadn’t been strong enough that he’d ever mentioned it to her or even to Scott, because if Stiles had mentioned it to Scott, she would’ve heard about it. “Ever since the third grade, the only girl he’s ever been interested in, in _that_ way is this beautiful strawberry blonde with green eyes, fair skin and a smile that lights up the room.”   
  
She pursed her lips and looked at Lydia. “I know it’s a scary step. But Stiles...he won’t make the first move, Lydia. He just won’t.” She tucked some hair behind Lydia’s ear. “Besides. Stiles and Cora are way too much alike for anything romantic. They get along well as friends, but trust me when I say that’s all that’s going on out there.”   
  
Lydia didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the tears sliding down her cheeks. She glanced down embarrassed not used to being so emotional even though lately it seemed like that was all she was doing. But Ms. McCall’s words made her chest tight. Lydia didn’t think now was the right time to make a move...not that she was even sure how to go about that with Stiles...he wasn’t like every other guy.   
  
Lydia brushed the tears away from her eyes and shifted her gaze until she was looking at Ms. McCall, “You know, I see why Stiles loves you so much. You’re kind of like the perfect mom.” She told her with a watery smile. Lydia felt the familiar stirrings of worry inside of her, but it wasn’t hers. It was Stiles and she wondered what exactly he was worried about.   
  
A short chuckle escaped Melissa. “Oh I am far from the perfect mom. At the end of the day, I make just as many mistakes as everyone else,” she said sincerely. She wrapped her arms around Lydia in a hug. “It’s all going to be okay, Lydia. It’s taking time, but it will be,” she said softly. “You just have to believe.”   
  
Lydia hesitated for a second before wrapping her arms around Ms. McCall and returning the hug. She couldn’t even remember the last time her own mother hugged her. It made her feel younger somehow. “Thank you,” she whispered, “I think I kind of needed that and didn’t even realize it.” Lydia admitted.   
  
“Sweetie, you’re welcome,” she said quietly, rubbing her back gently. “You know. You and I should do something soon. Just the two of us.” She pulled away to look at Lydia. “You mean a lot to both of my boys, and I want to get to know you better.”   
  
Lydia was surprised by Ms. McCall’s words and even more surprised by her own response to them. “I’d really like that.” She said softly, half a smile pulling at her lips.   
  
Melissa smiled softly. “Good. Then why don’t we plan something for after school on Monday. I have the day off, and Michael is working the day shift.” The two of them had worked it out so one of them was always there in case Stiles needed them.   
  
Lydia nodded. “That sounds good,” she said softly with half a smile the sound of Stiles and Cora talking getting louder. Lydia glanced towards the hallway and swallowed heavily knowing they must be making their way in their direction.   
  
Melissa gently squeezed her arm. “Dinner’s nearly ready,” she informed all three of them. “Will you be joining us Cora?”   
  
“Hey, you’re back.” Stiles smiled at Lydia. “How long have you been here?”   
  
Lydia caught Stiles’ gaze and returned his smile with a hesitant one of her own. “Just a couple of minutes,” she told him her gaze shifting to Cora briefly.   
  
Cora held Lydia’s gaze for a second before glancing at Scott’s mom. “I should actually get going and check on my brother.” She admitted, “But thanks,” she offered the older a woman a smile.   
  
Melissa smiled softly. “All right. It was nice meeting you, Cora.”   
  
The tension in the room was obvious and Stiles glanced between the two teenage girls, feeling slightly awkward. “Thanks for coming over,” he told Cora.   
  
Cora’s gaze shifted to Stiles and her expression softened, a small grin pulling at her lips, “Anytime, I had fun,” she said poking him gently. “I’ll see you soon.” Her eyes flickered back over to Melissa. “It was nice meeting you too.” She said as she stepped forward her gaze shifting over to Lydia. “Finally give my brother a rest?” She asked.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “For today.” She told Cora, “Not that I heard him complaining.” She added her tone bored.   
  
Cora’s eyes lifted to the ceiling, “I still can’t believe my brother’s fallen under the Lydia Martin spell.” She said with a slight huff still trying to figure out what the hell had happened while she was gone to make so much change.   
  
Lydia smirked, “Hmm I’m going to take that as a compliment.” She said amused. “Having trouble finding the door? I could help.”   
  
Cora shook her head and chuckled, “Someone’s testy.”   
  
Lydia tilted her head, “And someone’s trying my patience.”   
  
Cora nodded. “I’ll see you later,” she said again over her shoulder to Stiles before heading for the door and pulling it open.   
  
Stiles blinked a few times, trying to figure out what exactly he’d missed. But the one thing he definitely hadn’t missed was that Cora thought that Lydia and Derek were… _together._ Were they? He wondered, trying not to be bothered by the thought when he had no right to be. He and Lydia were friends. Good friends and that was it. It was all they’d ever been and nothing had changed. But her and Derek? He felt kind of nauseated at the thought. He tried to cheer himself up by reminding himself that at least Derek was a good guy, and at least Lydia wasn’t a psycho killer so he supposed if they found happiness together, he’d find a way to deal with that. Somehow.   
  
“Okay then,” Stiles mumbled as Cora left and he shot a look at Ms. McCall because he had no idea what he’d missed apparently.   
  
Melissa sent him a sympathetic look and reached over squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Why don’t you two go cleanup for dinner,” she said catching Stiles gaze and nodding towards Lydia. Stiles seemed confused and little upset and she knew Lydia was upset. They needed to talk; it was the only way to work out whatever was going on with them.   
  
Stiles nodded a little and glanced at Lydia sideways as they headed up the stairs. “Is uh...everything okay?” he asked warily. Because she was definitely upset. And yeah, he knew that she and Cora didn’t like each other, but that was more intense than usual.   
  
Lydia glanced back at Stiles, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she nodded. “Of course...why wouldn’t I be?” she asked keeping her tone light while walking up the stairs beside him. “Everything okay with you?” She inquired before he could answer her first question.   
  
Stiles cocked an eyebrow at how quickly she asked a second question. He reached out and put a hand on her arm. “Seriously, Lydia. You’re upset. And you can say you’re not but...I can feel it. You’re pissed off.”   
  
Lydia paused. She hadn’t realized he could feel that. She pursed her lips. “Cora and I just don’t get along,” she said with a shrug, “That’s all. She...bothers me.” She admitted honestly leaving out the why.   
  
“Okay, I get that. I mean she did threaten to rip your tongue out that one time. And she can be...verbally aggressive.” Hell she could be physically aggressive for that matter. But she was a Hale, after all. “But she’s not a bad person. I mean you know that right?”   
  
Lydia glanced at Stiles fighting her automatic urge to get annoyed that he was defending Cora. Of course he was defending her. She was his friend and that’s what Stiles did. He was loyal that way. “Mmhm.” She said as she stopped walking outside the door to Stiles room. “I never said she wasn’t.” Lydia told him. “We just don’t get along.” She explained. “Did you have a good time today?”   
  
Stiles felt the moment she felt the surge of annoyance and he felt when she suppressed it. It kind of hurt. He raked a hand through his hair, not sure what to do about it. “Yeah, it was fine. We just watched some dumb movies.”   
  
Lydia nodded and hesitated a second before reaching out and brushing her hand against his arm, “I’m glad you had a nice time,” she said her words genuine. She didn’t like that spending time with Cora seemed to relax him more than spending time with her, but she was glad that he was relaxed. Stiles needed that.   
  
He reached up and took her hand in his. “What were you guys up to at Derek’s?” he asked, trying not to sound jealous, just curious.   
  
Lydia threaded their fingers together. “I figured since Derek was staying in town he should have a proper place to live. That loft is terrible, drafty and dark...isolated.” She paused and shrugged, “So I thought it would be a nice idea to fix it up, make it a little more livable for him because god knows Derek would never do it for himself,” she said with a sigh feeling a slight twinge in her stomach, not entirely sure what the feeling was.   
  
Stiles nodded at that, not terribly surprised that she’d done something like that. “That was really considerate of you. And you’re right. Derek would never bother with it himself.” He paused. “I mean it’s good that he has you.” He squeezed her hand quickly.   
  
Lydia tilted her head, “He has all of us,” she said softly. “I just,” she paused, “He’s been really great. He helped us protect you and then he helped me find my way back so I could help you. And he’s been there for you, me and Scott.” She explained. “I wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone, that he has people who care about him.” Lydia said softly as she brushed her thumb over his hand.   
  
She was right, of course. Derek had somehow become a much larger part of their lives than he once had been, and in a very different role. Almost like a big brother. He nodded again, searching her eyes. “So Scott took off from here to...hang out with you guys?” he asked, trying to put the pieces together. “Like, redecorate his loft?”   
  
Lydia nodded, “It’s a big loft, Derek couldn’t paint it all himself so he called Scott and Isaac. And I told them what to do,” she said with half a smile. “So now his apartment looks better. He still needs some more furniture so that when the pack gets together there’s room for everyone, but it looks more homey.” She told him.   
  
He still wasn’t entirely sure what her relationship with Derek was. Cora had definitely thought there was more going on between them than what Lydia was saying, and he was afraid she wasn’t saying it because she didn’t want to hurt _his_ feelings. His chest felt tight. “Oh. That’s good. Hopefully it’ll help him be less moody.”   
  
Lydia frowned at the tightening in her chest. “What’s wrong?” She asked ignoring his words.   
  
Goddamn supernatural empathy, he thought, annoyed. This was not okay. He squeezed her hand gently. “Nothing. Just the usual. Brain not shutting off.”   
  
Lydia sighed releasing his hand and taking a step back, “You’re lying to me and I don’t know why.” She paused, “It bothers me.” She said quietly not able to keep her mouth shut anymore. The last thing she wanted to do was stress Stiles out. It was part of the reason she’d been keeping so much to herself lately, but she hated that there was something clearly bothering him that he wasn’t telling her. She and Stiles were always honest with each other.   
  
It hurt when she pulled away, but he couldn’t blame her. He had lied. How was he supposed to ask her the thing he wanted to ask her without making things between them really weird and awkward? He needed her too much for things to be weird and awkward. _You ripped her boyfriend’s heart out with your bare hands. How much more awkward could it possibly get?_ he thought harshly, wincing and rubbing a hand over his face. “Are you and Derek…?” His voice trailed off, guilt already swirling in his stomach. It wasn’t any of his business.   
  
Confusion crossed Lydia’s face, “Are Derek and I what?” She asked as she felt a swirl of different emotions building inside of her. She did her best to try and distinguish what they were and it was then that realization filled her features. “Stiles,” she shook her head and took a step closer, “You’re an idiot,” she told him softly, her words lacking any bite at all.   
  
She took a deep breath and reached out to him. “Derek is my friend.” She said softly, “He’s like the big brother that I don’t like to admit I always kind of wanted,” She explained. “He protects me, makes me feel safe and is a calming presence when things in my head get to be too much.” Lydia shrugged. “Everyone needs a friend. But there is absolutely nothing romantic going on between us. Neither Derek or I would do that.” Lydia didn’t want Derek. She wanted Stiles, but she wasn’t sure how to go about dealing with that.   
  
And now he was just kind of embarrassed at his assumption. “Right.” He shut his eyes, leaning back against the wall. “Look, I’m sorry, I know it’s not even...it’s not even any of my business, and I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.” He swallowed hard, exhaling. “I’m glad that you guys are there for each other.” And he really was. If Derek made things in her head easier -- things that were there because of _him_ , he was grateful.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.   
  
Lydia was quiet for a minute, she could feel his embarrassment and she bit her lower lip. She was silent for a minute debating her next move closely. “I don’t like that I can’t make you laugh like Cora does.” She admitted. “It bothers me that her presence seems to make you feel better than mine does.” Lydia blew out a breath. She was glad he was feeling better or at least had a break from all the ugly things in his head. But Lydia desperately wanted to be that for him, but she didn’t know how. “And now that you’ve seen how completely selfish I am, I’m going to go wash my hands for dinner.” Lydia told him as she started to turn away from him.   
  
The immediate tightening in his chest was painful and he honestly couldn’t distinguish if it was his, or if it was hers, or if it was both combined. He reached out and caught her wrist. “Wait,” he whispered. “Lydia...it’s not that simple.” He swallowed heavily, eyes burning with unshed tears. “It isn’t because you don’t make me feel better.” He shut his eyes. “It isn’t you at all. Okay? The things that -- that that _thing_ made me do.” He swiped a tear off his face quickly, letting go of her wrist.   
  
“It didn’t do anything to her. She wasn’t here. It did nothing to hurt her at all.” He opened his eyes to look at her again, guilt on his face. “But it’s not like that with you. It’s not like that with Scott. Or my dad. And that’s…” He shook his head, pained.   
  
Lydia had to suck in a sharp breath at the emotions running between them. Moisture filled her eyes. “We make you feel guilty.” She said quietly and looked away from him when a tear slipped down her cheek. “You didn’t hurt me.” She said when she glanced back at Stiles. “You didn’t lay a finger on me.” Which was mostly the truth except for that one day in the classroom, but that was her fault.   
  
“And you didn’t hurt Scott, or your dad or Ms. McCall we’re all still here. And yes maybe the Nogitsune tried to hurt us, but we’re still here and we don’t blame you.” She whispered knowing it wasn’t that simple though. Lydia swallowed hard. “If it’s too hard having me here I can go. If that’s what you want...if it’s what you _need_ I’ll go.” She responded her voice quiet.   
  
“No,” Stiles said immediately, shaking his head again. “No, _none_ of you make me feel guilty. I know you guys don’t blame me. I _know_ that. But you can’t honestly say I didn’t hurt you when I killed Aiden. When I wrecked your relationship with Allison. And Scott’s with Isaac. I almost killed Scott and my dad and Allison and I don’t know how to live with that. It’s all I think about. It just plays on this loop in my head and I don’t know how to _shut it off._ But I’m trying.”   
  
His voice was thick when he spoke again. “I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want any of you to leave, but sometimes I think maybe _I_ should. Sometimes I think…” Tears rolled down his face and he shook his head, closing his eyes.   
  
Lydia closed her eyes trying to push out Stiles’ emotions so she could focus on trying comfort him. When it didn’t work right away she stepped forward anyway and cupped his cheeks. “Leaving won’t help,” she whispered, “You don’t need to be isolated from the people who love you. You need us here.” Lydia swallowed heavily her heartbeat picking up speed.   
  
“If I could take the pain, if I could take away what you were feeling I’d do it in a heartbeat,” Lydia whispered, “No one understands better than me what you’re feeling...what it does to you. But please,” her voice broke, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Please don’t distance yourself from us, from _me_.” She used her thumb to brush the tears from his face. “You need us...and Stiles we need you. _I_ need you.” She whispered the words. Lydia wanted to tell him, but she couldn’t she wasn’t ready and it wasn’t the right time. Not now. But she needed him to know he was important to her.   
  
Stiles did need them. He needed all of them, and that was part of the problem. He’d put them all through hell and he kept putting them through hell because he couldn’t figure out how to shut it all off. And he knew it was worse for Lydia and for Scott because they could both literally feel his emotions.   
  
He let out a shuddering breath, leaning into her touch and not pulling away. Distantly he heard hesitant footsteps on the stairs and he felt a flicker of awareness without even looking. _Scott._ He reached out and slid his arms around Lydia in a tight hug, burying his face against her shoulder.   
  
Lydia held onto him tightly, running her fingers through his hair and she tried to keep herself together, but it was hard. She heard a creak on the steps and her gaze shifted to the stairs, but she didn’t let go of Stiles.   
  
Scott stepped onto the landing and swallowed hard his chest tight. He hadn’t meant to overhear them. But the second he got home he felt their distress and he’d come to see what was going on. Stiles words had made his chest tight.   
  
He stepped forward hesitantly not wanting to intrude, but when he saw Lydia pull one hand from Stiles and hold it out in his direction he came willingly and folded his arms around both of them.   
  
Stiles let go of Lydia with one arm so he could wrap it around Scott and enfold him into the hug, too, his tears blurring with Lydia’s as they both cried. The added steady presence of his best friend helped soothe his frazzled nerves and he wondered how the hell he’d gotten lucky enough to have these people in his life at all. Eventually his tears began to slow as he held onto the two of them tightly, trying to remember back to before he’d felt so _broken_. Before the possession, before the sacrifices, before the alpha pack. He’d been frayed for a long time and he was tired of feeling damaged.   
  
Eventually he let go of them, leaning back against the wall. How many tears could a person shed before their insides shriveled up the rest of the way? He was afraid he was going to end up finding out. This had to stop, somehow. He thought briefly of the pills that were sitting in on his desk, but at the end of the day his memories would still be there. Did he really want to do something that might alter his brain? That might somehow trigger his own genetics to work against him? He couldn’t put his dad through that. He couldn’t put _any_ of them through that.   
  
“Remember that meditation thing we were talking about?” he asked Scott, voice wavering only a little.   
  
Scott nodded reaching out and squeezing his friend’s shoulder. “We can start tomorrow.” He said right away, “Or whenever you want.” He added wanting Stiles to know he was there for whatever he needed.   
  
“I think maybe we should all try it,” Stiles admitted. “Together and separately.” He looked at Lydia. “What do you think?”   
  
Lydia glanced between them and then nodded. “It couldn’t hurt,” She said. If Stiles wanted her to meditate, she would meditate her ass off.   
  
“At this point, there’s not much I’m not willing to try so if you guys are looking for a threesome, you better jump on the train right now,” he said sardonically.   
  
Lydia couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her throat. She covered her mouth when Scott snorted. “If you’re on the train count me in,” she said softly.   
  
“Somehow I don’t think my almost girlfriend would appreciate a threesome,” he joked his chest loosening slightly, “I’m on board too though.” He said his expression turning serious.   
  
A soft laugh escaped Stiles when they both agreed even if they were kidding. Because somehow it made him feel more like his old self, even if it was just briefly. “Hell, invite her too. We’ll just make it a pack bonding experience.” He reached out and hugged Scott again, and then let him go so he could hug Lydia once more, as well.   
  
Scott grinned, “She’ll be happy to come...plus she’s making you a cake.” Scott told him as he patted his friend’s back. “Mom said dinner is almost ready she wanted me to see where you guys were,” he said, “Think you’ll be coming down? Or I can just bring some stuff up here when I’m done eating,” he suggested.   
  
Lydia glanced at Stiles as she slid her hand into his again, needing the extra contact.   
  
Stiles looked at Lydia for a moment. “I think I’m gonna just lie down for awhile.” He was pretty wiped out. “It won’t hurt her feelings right?” He looked back at Scott with worried eyes.   
  
Scott smiled and shook his head. “It won’t, you know it won’t. She’ll just make you a plate and save it for later,” he said with a grin. He patted his friend on the back glancing between him and Lydia. “I’ll see you guys in a little bit.”   
  
Stiles nodded, watching as his best friend headed downstairs. Then he turned back to look at Lydia. “Do you want to go eat with them?” he asked uncertainly.   
  
Lydia shook her head. “I want to stay with you,” she paused, “If you don’t mind company in bed.” She said holding his gaze.   
  
“No, I don’t mind company, especially not when it’s you.” His voice was soft.   
  
Lydia smiled and stepped back tugging his hand gently as she walked backwards into Stiles’ bedroom. “That’s good to know,” she responded her voice just as soft. Lydia toed off her heels, the action dropping her down about four inches, her gaze still on Stiles.   
  
Stiles followed her inside the room, not shutting the door. He didn’t have shoes of his own to take off since he hadn’t gone anywhere. He motioned for her to crawl into the bed first and when she had, he slid in under the covers beside her, leaving enough room for Scott whenever he showed up. “Hey, so...I wanted to talk to you about something else,” he said softly.   
  
Lydia shifted closer to Stiles, seeking out his warmth, “Hmm?” She said while resting a hand on his arm. She’d worry about changing out of her dress later. Right now she just wanted him to hold her and relax.   
  
“This was probably really out of line for me to do without mentioning it to you first, but...I talked to my dad.” His voice was quiet. “He said it’s okay if you stayed here from now on. I mean, if you want to. I mean, you’ve practically been living here anyway, you know? So it just makes sense.”   
  
Lydia blinked confusion crossing her face momentarily before she opened her mouth. “You,” she paused, “What?” Lydia’s eyebrows arched considerably higher than normal. “You want _me_ to live _here_...with you and your dad?” She asked wanting to make sure she understood what Stiles was saying.   
  
“Well...yeah.” He raised his eyebrows, turning his head to look at her. “I mean we have a guest room and there’s plenty of space. I mean, I know it’s not your house, but Prada can stay too and we can pretty much work out the rest.”   
  
Lydia studied Stiles for a minute. He was serious. He wanted her to stay there with him and his dad. “Why?” She asked softly.   
  
There were so many ways to answer that question, but only one that was the utmost truthful. “Because the thought of you there by yourself all the time, alone...it kills me,” he whispered.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard, her chest tightening at his words. She wanted to tell him how much his words meant to her, how they made her feel, but Lydia wasn’t sure how. She reached out and cupped his cheek. “You’re always looking out for me.” She told him softly, holding his gaze. “Can I still stay in here with you?” She asked quietly.   
  
Stiles sighed at that. “Conditionally. Either I have to be having nightmares or Scott has to be here with us. Those were Dad’s two main rules.” He looked up at her intently.   
  
Lydia sent him a thoughtful look, “I guess Scott’s going to have to move in too huh?” She asked as she hesitantly shifted closer to him. “I bet the sheriff didn’t say anything about you sleeping in the guest room with me,” she joked. But the truth was the sheriff and Ms. McCall had been extremely nice to her and she wouldn't want to do anything to upset them.   
  
A short chuckle escaped him involuntarily. “Not going to protest either of those possibilities.” He lifted a hand up, tucking some hair behind her ear. “So you think you’re gonna move in and become an official part of the Stilinski family?”   
  
Lydia couldn’t help the slight flutter that moved through her stomach at his words. “You sure you and your dad want to adopt me,” she joked, “I’m sort of a hand full.”   
  
“Let’s face it. If my dad can handle me, you’re a piece of cake.” He smiled faintly.   
  
Lydia was quiet for a second, “I probably couldn’t find a better family to be a part of,” she told him softly. Lydia let out a short breath. “Okay,” She gave him a small smile. “Thanks for looking out for me Stiles.”   
  
Short of Scott’s family, Stiles agreed with the sentiment. “Lydia, I…” He hesitated. “I’m always going to try to look out for you. Just like I know you’re always going to try to look out for all of us. Like Scott does.”   
  
Lydia pressed her lips together and ran a hand down Stiles arm before tugging it over her body. “I am,” she agreed. She was quiet for another minute, “Stiles?” she said his name softly as she rested a hand against his chest.   
  
“Yeah?” he asked quietly as he rubbed her back gently.   
  
Lydia kept her eyes on his shirt her hands picking at the material as she spoke. “Remember how we were talking earlier and you asked me,” she hesitated and then pushed on, “you asked me about Derek and then said it wasn’t any of your business?” She inquired softly.   
  
He held his breath. “Yeah?” He chewed his lower lip for a moment, not sure what she was about to say.   
  
“I just,” Lydia paused, “It is your business.” She told him quietly. “I just wanted you to know that.” She told him before ducking her head and pressing herself into his side enjoying the comfort of his body near hers.   
  
Stiles swallowed hard, tightening his arm around her a little. He wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, though he was starting to get an idea. It made his chest feel warm. He pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head. “Okay,” he whispered.   
  
“Okay,” Lydia repeated, her heart beating a little on the quick side as she closed her eyes and relaxed into him. It wasn’t what she wanted to say, but for now it was all she had.   
  
Stiles relaxed, too, but he was still half-awake when he felt Scott slide into the covers beside him awhile later. He turned his head toward his best friend with a small smile on his face. “How was the lasagna?”   
  
Scott groaned, “Delicious,” he said with a happy sigh. Plus it had been nice to talk with his mom and the sheriff a bit and catch up with them. “She put aside a plate for you and Lydia in case you’re hungry later.” He lifted his head a few times getting comfortable. Scott glanced over at his friend and Lydia. “She already out?” He asked quietly.   
  
He smiled at that a bit more. He knew that Ms. McCall made a mean lasagna. Maybe he’d be able to stomach it later. “Yeah.” His voice was quiet. He hesitated a moment, then reached out and curled his free hand around Scott’s arm.   
  
Scott tilted his head in Stiles direction and relaxed against the mattress, “Everything okay?” He asked trying to see if he could sense anything off in his friend’s emotions.   
  
Stiles nodded as he felt himself relaxing the rest of the way now, too. “Yeah. Lydia’s moving in. My dad okayed it and she needs to be here.”   
  
Scott arched an eyebrow, “She said yes,” he stated and nodded, “I’m not surprised.” He was silent for a minute, “Lydia seemed a little distracted today at Derek’s,” Scott had made the mistake of bringing up Cora and asking Derek about her being back, which had set Lydia off. Though, that didn’t really surprise him either. It seemed their red haired friend was getting a bit possessive of his best friend. Scott wondered if Stiles had noticed the change or if he was just too lost in his whole ‘it’s never going to happen’ mentality to notice.   
  
Stiles could practically see the wheels turning in Scott’s mind. He shifted just a little so he could look at his friend better. “Cora thought there was something going on between her and Derek. Something aside from friendship.” He chewed his lower lip. “It’s sort of what started the whole…” He lifted his hand off Scott’s arm long enough to motion to the door.   
  
Scott nodded. “I can understand how Cora might have jumped to that,” Scott admitted, “Believe it or not I think Derek really cares about Lydia. Genuinely,” he said with half a smile. “But after spending the day with them it’s more than clear that it’s not the romantic kind of caring.” He was silent for a minute gathering his thoughts, “You know...they actually reminded me of you and me a little bit today.” Scott grinned and nudged Stiles gently.   
  
“I think Lydia brings Derek out of the darkness...forces him out of it more accurately, but he lets her. And he gives her strength when she doesn’t realize she needs it. It was strange to see them working in an odd sort of unison, but also kinda nice.” Scott admitted.   
  
“But for the record, even though Derek won’t admit it he considers both of us his friends and he wouldn’t do that to you. He’s nothing if not loyal.” He patted his friends shoulder. “Lydia wouldn’t either you know. I think she’s pretty content right where she is,” he said softly letting his eyes fall to the red head in question who was resting against Stiles, her breathing steady.   
  
“No, I believe that, too.” He remembered all the days that Derek had sat with Lydia in the hospital before she woke up. Lydia had a way of being able to pull people out of the darkness even if they were drowning in it.   
  
He considered Scott’s words for a moment, making a note to visit Derek soon. He didn’t know how exactly to extend the kind of friendship that he shared with Scott and Lydia to Derek, but he was going to make an effort. Then he caught the rest of Scott’s words and he drew in a breath, looking down at Lydia for a moment. “Yeah, I think...you might be right.”   
  
Scott smirked, a low chuckle escaping him. “Trust me, I’m right. I’ve spent almost as much time with Lydia lately as you have.” he told his friend as he stared at the ceiling. “And apparently mom and her are going to have a little girls day out after school tomorrow. She wants to get to know Lydia better.” Scott closed his eyes and smiled. “This is going to sound bad man, but I kind of like us all being together. I haven’t felt this much like a family in a long time.” He said quietly.   
  
Stiles rolled his head to look at his best friend, a faint smile touching his mouth again. “Yeah. Yeah, me too, Dude.” He reached out and laid his hand on Scott’s arm again, feeling sleep beginning to tug at him.


	13. Chapter 13

Lydia slammed her hand against the bathroom door shoving it open as she stumbled into the small room. Her chest was tight, her heartbeat echoing loudly in her ears as her stomach clenched, a wave of nausea slamming into her. Her heels hit the tile loudly as she pushed open one of the stalls and practically collapsed to her knees. She gripped her stomach and bent over the toilet, the yogurt she ate that morning coming up almost immediately.   
  
Her free hand pressed against the stall wall, moisture gathering in the back of her throat seconds before she was throwing up again. A soft sob left her throat, her skin pale as she took a shaky breath. Stiles hadn’t felt this bad in a while and she had no idea what was causing the influx of guilt and shame, but it was painful.   
  
Five minutes passed and Lydia stayed on the floor making sure there was nothing left for her to throw up. So much for her first day back at school. She’d had plans to make this Monday a good one, but in the middle of her first period she was hit with the first few waves of emotion from Stiles and by the time she’d gotten to the bathroom, well she’d been sick.   
  
Lydia could finally feel her heart starting to calm down. Her body felt weak and tired. She took a few minutes to clean herself up, flush the toilet and push herself up. Her legs were shaky and she knew she had to be pale. She moved out of the stall and to the sink washing her mouth out for a couple of minutes before glancing up at the mirror.   
  
Lydia barely recognized her own face. There were small beads of sweat on her forehead, her skin was pale and she felt drained. She looked away and swallowed heavily, letting out a shaky breath. She couldn’t keep doing this. Lydia felt moisture gathering in her eyes. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t control the things she was feeling or how Stiles was feeling her. And Peter’s stupid advice was ridiculous.   
  
How was she supposed to know the right way to listen? And what did letting Stiles in have to do with anything? Lydia didn’t know how to let him in or not push away the connection. She didn’t know what it meant and she hated that she couldn’t fix this. She was tired and frustrated and just completely annoyed with herself for being so incredibly useless.   
  
Lydia felt the first tear slid down her cheek and then another and before she knew it she was standing in the middle of the girls bathroom at school sobbing, hands gripping the sink tightly, head bent down as she let go. All the frustration and guilt she’d been feeling lately bursting to the surface as she continued crying, her breathing picking up speed and this time Lydia was positive it was her having some kind of panic attack.   
  
Allison had seen Lydia run by her own classroom and when Lydia was literally _running_ something was wrong. She didn’t even bother to check with the teacher to see if her leaving was okay because she didn’t really care if it was or not. If she got a detention, she’d serve it. She ducked out of the classroom before the woman could so much as protest, seeing Lydia disappear into the bathroom.   
  
She waited for a few minutes to give her just a little bit of privacy. Then she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her chest tightened at the sight of her best friend standing there, crying her eyes out. She quickly shut the bathroom door, blocking it shut with a garbage can.   
  
Wordlessly she crossed the room and wrapped her arms tightly around Lydia because she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what exactly was wrong. She just wanted to help.   
  
Lydia jumped slightly at the unexpected touch, her head jerking up. When she spotted Allison it only took her a few seconds before she was turning and wrapping her arms around the other girl. She knew she owed her friend a dozen apologies, but right in that moment she couldn’t seem to get anything out besides the tears that had been building for god only knew how long.   
  
It was a good ten minutes before her sobs turned to short breaths and sniffles. Lydia’s heartbeat was finally slowing down and when she opened her eyes she let out a shaky breath and stepped back enough to see Allison’s face. “I’m sorry,” her voice was hoarse. “I’m _so_ sorry for everything. I’m sorry I haven’t come to talk to you sooner and that I let all of this come between us and I’m just,” her voice cut off as she felt the tears building in her eyes again, “God I messed up your shirt.” She pointed a slight shudder moving through her body.   
  
“Lydia, no,” she whispered, hugging her tighter again. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.” Her own eyes had teared up. “It’s fine. We’re gonna be fine.” She looked down at her shirt, then shook her head. “Don’t even worry about my shirt. I’m not the fashionista,” she reminded her friend gently.   
  
Lydia sniffled and pursed her lips. “I really am sorry, Allison,” she paused, “You’re my best friend and I should have respected your decision.” Lydia hadn’t meant to apologize like this, but it was already out and it was good to have it out. She reached up and wiped her eyes with shaky hands as she spoke, “I’ve been a bad friend.”   
  
“No, you haven’t.” Allison shook her head. “I get it. And if Isaac had been the one --” She hesitated. “I just get it, Lydia.”   
  
Lydia swallowed hard and nodded. “I’ve missed you,” she said with a strained laugh as she tried to get her body to calm down. She didn’t feel anything from Stiles at the moment except for maybe worry. “Thanks for that, I was...there’s a lot going on.” She told her friend as she brought a hand up to her head rubbing it lightly.   
  
“I know.” She managed a tiny smile. “There always is. Why don’t we ditch the rest of this period and...catch up?” she suggested quietly.   
  
Lydia hesitated, “You sure you don’t mind missing class?” She asked lightly studying Allison’s face.   
  
Allison linked her elbow through Lydia’s. “Completely.”   
  
Lydia smiled, relieved that Allison was so forgiving. “Where to?” She asked as she started leading Allison out of the bathroom.   
  
“Let’s go outside. Fresh air and it’ll be quieter.”   
  
Lydia nodded walking quietly with Allison down the hallway and out the double doors moving in the direction that they used to sit and each lunch. Her mind was everywhere at once and she was doing her best to focus on just one thought but it was impossible. “How’s Isaac?” She asked as they walked over to the benches.   
  
Allison sat down next to her without hesitation. “He’s okay. My dad still freaks him out.” A tiny smile touched her mouth, but she looked down, remembering what her dad had wanted her to do. “I keep meaning to talk to Scott and I keep missing him. Is he doing okay?”   
  
Lydia tilted her head to the side, “Yeah, I think he’s doing as okay as any of us can be right now,” she said honestly. “How are you? Healing up okay?” She asked concerned.   
  
She shifted on the bench so she was facing her best friend. “I still have to sit out in gym for awhile longer, but I’m okay. Isaac insisted on taking my pain a lot. It’s basically completely gone pain-wise now.” She studied Lydia, noticing how tired she looked. “What about you? How are _you_ doing? What’s going on?”   
  
“I’m glad Isaac has been helping,” Lydia told her before pursing her lips. “I’m okay,” it was her automatic response these days. “Tired and,” Lydia faltered, “Tired. Worried, pretty much an emotional mess,” she admitted with half a smile though it didn’t reach her gaze.   
  
Allison had picked up on that for Lydia’s crying spiel in the bathroom, but she didn’t comment. She just nodded slightly, laying a hand on her friend’s arm. “How’s he doing?” she asked very softly.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard to moisten her throat, “Honestly?” She asked quietly, “Not great. I mean he’s better than he was, but...there’s only so much Scott and I can do.” She paused for a minute glancing down at her hand and picking at her nail. “I don’t know how to help him and it’s driving me crazy.” She whispered, “Add in what he’s feeling with what I’m feeling...It’s just really hard.”   
  
Allison’s eyes were sad as she gazed at Lydia. She wasn’t surprised, really, by the information. Not when Stiles had actively broken through from the Nogitsune’s torment twice because he was literally trying to get her dad to _kill_ him. She couldn’t imagine how terrible he must be feeling. She didn’t really want to. She looked away, silent for a moment. “Maybe Stiles...maybe he needs someone like Deaton right now,” she said very softly. “I mean I know he’s not exactly a psychiatrist, but…” It wasn’t like Stiles could see an actual psychiatrist because no one would believe him unless they already knew about the kinds of things that were really out there. “And maybe you should, too.”   
  
“He and Scott went to see Deaton,” Lydia sighed, “God there’s so much we haven’t had a chance to tell you guys.” She took a deep breath and told Allison about what Deaton said and how Stiles was supposed to be Scott’s emissary. She went on to tell her about visiting Peter with Derek and how he told her more about her abilities and her connection to Stiles.   
  
Lydia explained how she was feeling what Stiles felt and how she was starting to feel Scott too. “It’s just a lot. Everything is kind of jumbled in my head and I don’t know how to make it make sense.”   
  
Allison’s eyes got wider and wider the more Lydia told her about. A lot really had happened since she’d last talked to her best friend. She made a note to just go by the Stilinski household in the next couple of days and visit Stiles personally since he still wasn’t back at school yet.   
  
She considered her best friend’s words. “Lydia...doesn’t screaming kind of help with that?” she asked tentatively. “You know, help you clear your head?”   
  
Lydia blinked, “Screaming?” She asked pondering her friend’s words. “I...I didn’t think of that.” She said her tone baffled. How had she not thought if that? “I’ve been holding so much in and I think maybe the urge has been there, but,” Lydia hesitated, “But I’ve been holding back. The last time I screamed...It was for Stiles,” she said quietly looking down again. “I think-no-I know I’m afraid of losing him. I’m not sure what I’d do,” she whispered. “Things are different now.”   
  
“Lydia, you’ve been dealing with a lot. Not just your own stuff, but all of Stiles’ stuff, and it sounds like some of Scott’s, too.” She squeezed her arm. “You need to take care of yourself, too. Maybe give it a shot.” Allison exhaled. “And of course you’re scared of losing him. We got pretty close to that happening. It was terrifying.”   
  
Lydia met Allison’s gaze, “We did...and what I feel I don’t know how to let it out. I don’t know how to tell him.” Her gaze flickered down to the table again and she could feel her heartbeat picking up speed again, emotions building in her chest. Maybe Allison had a point, maybe she needed to scream.   
  
She held Lydia’s gaze until Lydia looked down. “Clarity’s not...an easy thing to come by,” she murmured. It wasn’t for her. It wasn’t for anyone, really. The older she got, the more she realized that. Nothing was simple, even when maybe it should be.   
  
Lydia nodded, the urge to scream suddenly overwhelming. It was like Allison bringing it up and had awoken the need inside of her. She took a deep breath, “Cover your ears,” she whispered, her grip tightening on the bench. Lydia took a deep breath, the urge building in her throat and seconds later she opened her mouth and screamed, the sound echoing through the mostly empty quad. And when the last of it left her throat she sucked in a sharp breath her body swaying slightly from the force.   
  
Something was different, but she couldn't’ place what. Lydia took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know if that helped,” She finally whispered.   
  
“Do you feel any different?” Allison questioned, lowering her hands from her ears after the scream ended. She was already pulling out her phone to shoot text messages to Isaac and Scott not to worry about the scream.   
  
Lydia hesitated, “Something feels different,” she admitted, “But...I don’t know.” She pursed her lips. “I think...things seem better?” She said the question clear in her voice. Lydia nodded, “No, they do seem better...not as foggy.” She admitted. It seemed like she was alone in her head for the first time in a while. “Oh, can you text Derek?” Lydia didn’t have her bag on her or her phone and she knew he was probably going to worry if he’d heard her.   
  
Allison nodded, copying her text to the other two wolves and sent the same text to Derek, as well. “If it feels better, than it was worth it,” she informed Lydia.   
  
Lydia nodded, “You’re right,” she said with half a smile. Her mind seemed to be slowly categorizing all the different emotions that had built inside of her separating them out so she wasn’t focused on attempting to weed them out herself. Lydia shook her thoughts away and smiled at Allison. She reached out and squeezed her friend’s arm. “Thanks for helping me,” she said softly.   
  
She leaned over and hugged Lydia tightly. “Anytime,” she whispered.   
  
Lydia returned the hug, “Are we good?” She asked softly wanting to make sure. She’d missed Allison more than she’d realized.   
  
Allison tightened her hold on Lydia just a little. “We’re good,” she promised.   
  
Lydia smiled, “Good,” she pulled back from the hug and sent Allison half a smile. “We should probably get back to class,” she commented.   
  
She grimaced. “Yeah, probably.” They’d all missed enough of it lately. She wasn’t going to be surprised if most of them ended up in summer school, really. She rose to her feet, linking her arm with Lydia’s once her best friend had stood up, too.   
  
“Off to class we go,” Lydia sighed tugging Allison forward, “I love school, honest I do, but god I just miss our bed. I need an entire day where I do nothing but sleep.” She said as they moved forward toward the doors.   
  
“Our bed?” Allison echoed, glancing at her sideways.   
  
Lydia opened her mouth, her cheeks warming, something they never did considering Lydia didn’t embarrass easily. “Did I say that?” she asked not even realizing the most likely Freudian slip. She pressed her lips together. “Stiles sleeps better when he’s not alone,” she said with a slight shrug. “I haven’t been home in a while and I don’t think I will be other than to get my stuff.” She admitted.   
  
Allison’s eyebrows rose at that. Not at the fact that Stiles was sleeping better if he wasn’t alone. That didn’t actually surprise her at all. But that she hadn’t been home and didn’t plan to be. “You’re staying there that often?” she asked quietly.   
  
Lydia hesitated, “My mom took a teaching job in San Diego,” she explained, “She left last week.” Lydia’s chest tightened, but she pushed it aside. “Stiles being Stiles doesn’t want me to stay in my house alone...he’s worried.” Lydia smiled softly. “He asked me to move in with him and the sheriff last night, the way he was looking at me,” she bit her lower lip, “I couldn’t find it in myself to say no.” Lydia chuckled, baffled. “How is this my life?”   
  
Allison suppressed a smile at her words and looked at her friend sideways. “Well. He’s Stiles.” She paused. “And you’re Lydia.”   
  
Lydia nodded, “But I don’t know I’m having second thoughts. I mean technically how strange would it be for me to live with the Stilinski’s?” She asked, “I’ve got a whole bunch of stuff...and the shoes and clothes and can you imagine the rules?” Lydia arched an eyebrow as they continued walking.   
  
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said yes. I should probably think about it. Did you know that eighty-seven percent of people make rash decisions because they’re sleep deprived? Maybe I’m sleep deprived.” Though she slept pretty well in Stiles arms last night and she might be ignoring the fact that she _wanted_ to say yes to him because after everything that had happened the thought of waking up miles away from Stiles felt wrong.   
  
“Well, you’re practically living there right now anyway, right?” Allison pointed out. “But maybe you should think more about it. I mean, if you’re having second thoughts or feeling weird about it, then maybe it’s not the right thing for you.”   
  
Lydia frowned, “Maybe,” she reached for the door and pulled it open for them, “But like you said I’ve practically been living there anyway...and I think Prada has gotten really attached to Stiles,” Lydia added lightly.   
  
Allison smirked. “Oh has she?” Because Allison had a feeling very little of that statement had anything to do with _Prada._   
  
Lydia scoffed at Allison’s tone. “Yes Allison,” she said pointedly, “Dogs are very social creatures and she’s been spending her days with Stiles. I wouldn’t want her to be sad being home alone in my house all day while I’m at school. Stiles spoils her...so being alone, well, she’ll never have it.” Lydia said simply.   
  
If anything, Allison’s smirk grew wider. “And I think you already have the answer to your own question,” she said sweetly. “I’ll see you at lunch, Lydia.”   
  
Lydia huffed as she watched her friend go, but there was a smile on her face and for the first time in a long time she felt like maybe things were really going to be okay.   


______

  
  
Stiles was half-awake when he heard familiar footsteps approaching his bedroom door. He yawned, scooting over instinctively and pulling Prada over, as well. He let his eyes drift shut once more as Scott stepped into the room. “How was school?” he mumbled tiredly.   
  
Scott dropped his bag on the floor and sighed. “I tripped and almost knocked both me and Kira down the stairs,” he answered as he dropped down on the bed. “If it wasn’t for my reflexes...I don’t even want to think what would have happened.” Scott shook his head wondering how he could be so spastic sometimes. “You’re still in bed,” he commented his brows drawing together.   
  
“Dude, you’re a true alpha werewolf. How do you manage to be _that_ uncoordinated?” he wondered, a hint of amusement in his voice. Prada laid her head down on Stiles’ arm. He didn’t open his eyes. For some reason he felt completely wiped out. “But as per usual, your observational skills are stellar.” The words weren’t mean. They weren’t even overly sarcastic.   
  
Scott arched an eyebrow. “Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” he teased. “And for the record maybe I was a little distracted. Kira was talking and I couldn’t stop watching her lips move and then I stepped off the wrong way and,” he lifted his hand and dropped it down quickly. “But I caught us.” He reminded his friend.   
  
Scott tilted his head in his friend’s direction, his eyes dropping to the small dog. “You feeling okay?” He asked as he reached out to put his hand on his friends arm eliciting a soft grumbling growl from Prada. Scott arched an eyebrow, “Did that puny little dog just growl at me?”   
  
Someone had never really gotten out of bed that day at all, but Stiles didn’t bother to correct him. “Oh, well. That explains it all.” He smirked faintly, picking Prada up when the dog growled at Scott, and rolling over onto his back so she could rest on his stomach. He looked up at Scott. “Yeah, what’s that about anyway? Shouldn’t she know who the alpha of the house is?”   
  
Scott frowned at the dog, “I can show her who the alpha is, but Lydia might get mad at me for growling at her dog,” he said before tilting his head to the side and reaching out to touch Stiles again. He heard another growl and Scott smirked. “She doesn’t like when I go to touch you. That’s cute.” Scott bent his head and flashed his eyes at Prada, “He was my friend first.” Scott told the small dog who moved curling up by Stiles neck. Scott grinned. “You didn’t answer my question,” he added, “You feeling okay man?”   
  
Stiles scratched the pup’s ears absently, shaking his head when Scott flashed his red eyes at the dog, more amused than he probably should have been. He’d almost forgotten how ridiculous and goofy Scott could be sometimes. “Yeah. Just...tired,” he said, looking up at his friend.   
  
Scott shifted onto his side. “You slept okay last night didn’t you?” He asked trying to remember if his friend had woken up at all, but as far as he knew he didn’t. Scott had been the first one up that morning and Lydia and Stiles were still asleep when he went to shower.   
  
“Yeah, I slept fine,” he agreed. He hadn’t even had a nightmare. Or at least not that he remembered. “I’m fine, dude. Don’t worry.”   
  
Scott sighed, “I always worry. Between you and you prettier half,” he teased, “I’m going to have gray hair by the time I’m eighteen.” Scott joked. “Is your dad here? I didn’t see him on the way up.”   
  
“Do werewolves _get_ gray hair?” he asked, realizing he didn’t know the answer. Something else to ask Deaton. “Yeah, he’s here. He’s in the study, working on something.”   
  
Scott turned to Stiles again, “I don’t know. But I could.” He said as he folded his hands behind his head. “Oh, Lydia and Allison made up,” he said softly a small smile on his face. “We all ate together today...we missed you though.” Scott told his friend quietly.   
  
Stiles smiled. “Yeah? Glad to hear that. I know she’s been…missing Allison.” And he knew from the talk that he had with Allison that she’d been missing Lydia, too. His heart ached a little at Scott’s words. “I missed you guys, too.”   
  
Scott reached out and rested his hand on his friends shoulder. “You’ll be back soon. Allison said she was going to stop by this week. I think she said she had something for you,” he frowned trying to remember. “Sorry man, I was distracted.” Scott smiled, “Kira’s very distracting. Oh, is tomorrow a good day for her to come over?”   
  
His eyebrows furrowed at the comment about Allison. He wondered why she had anything for him. “Yeah. Tomorrow’s fine,” he assured Scott. “You can have her over whenever you’re here, dude. I don’t mind.”   
  
Scott shrugged, “It’s your place I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” He explained. Scott was silent for a minute. “When I was eating dinner with mom and your dad last night they were talking about us maybe going home next week.” He said quietly.   
  
“I like Kira,” he answered, shrugging, then growing still at Scott’s news. “Right. I guess that makes sense. It’s been awhile and everything.” He swallowed hard, closing his eyes. He stroked Prada’s fur absently and the pup whined and wiggled closer to him.   
  
Scott tensed at the shift in Stiles’ emotions. “We can probably stay longer. They were just talking about it, I’m sure if you wanted us to stay we could,” Scott offered not wanting to leave Stiles if he wasn’t ready.   
  
“Forever?” he joked, letting out a breath. “No, it’s...you know, it’s fine. You guys have pretty much uprooted your entire lives for months from all this crap. I’m sure your mom probably misses her own house and not having to cook for a bunch of extra people, and you should probably get back to your own life anyway, Scott.”   
  
Scott didn’t like the way Stiles said that. He frowned, “Dude, you _are_ a part of my life. One of the biggest parts.” He told his friend quietly. “We’re family and I will stay as long as you need me.” He said matter-of-factly sitting up a little and turning to face Stiles. “And for the record, my Mom loves you. Being here these past few weeks have been just as much for her as for you. She worries when she doesn’t know you’re okay.” Scott explained, “So do I.”   
  
He hadn’t meant for it to sound quite the way Scott had taken it. He gently moved Prada off his chest and onto the mattress, propping himself up on an elbow as he lifted his head. “Dude, I know. I know, okay?” His chest tightened a little. “And I love you guys, too. But I shouldn’t be the center of everybody’s life. Think of what extended periods of that kind of attention will do to my already tremendously large ego,” he joked.   
  
Scott cracked a grin at his friend’s joke. He sighed. “Look if mom and I do head back home next week promise me you’ll call me if you need me,” he said pointedly, “I don’t want you to feel like you have to be alone.”   
  
“Of course. Plus, hey fun new alpha power. Even if I don’t call, you’ll know if I’m in some kind of distress anyway,” he quipped. “Aren’t you glad you’re the leader of the pack, dude? Vroom vroom.”   
  
Scott couldn’t help the chuckle that fell from his throat even if technically it wasn’t actually a laughing matter. “Oh yeah, I love being the big bad wolf,” he joked shaking his head. “You’re all nuts,” he said affectionately, “Between being able to feel you, the pack and Lydia I’m never going to feel alone again.” He said with a grin. “Did I tell you what your crazy...Lydia did to me today?” He asked eyebrow arched. “Actually now that I’m thinking about it, it might actually be the reason I almost made me and Kira tumble down the steps. For once I don’t think it was my fault.”   
  
It wasn’t really a laughing matter, but Stiles could turn just about anything into a joke, because if he didn’t laugh, he’d probably cry again and he was tired of that nonsense. “Does that make Kira Little Red Riding Hood…?” he wondered aloud. Then he shook his head. “No, what did she do?” he asked curiously.   
  
Scott sent his friend a thoughtful look and then grinned, “Maybe,” he said with smirk. He tilted his head to the side. “She screamed in the middle of the day.” Scott nodded, “It wasn’t me. That’s why I stumbled down the steps the first time she scared me half to death.” He told Stiles, “Every werewolf in a ten mile radius was probably on their way to check on her until I get a text from Allison saying ‘ignore that Lydia and I are testing a theory’.” Scott rolled his eyes and shook his head.   
  
“I even got a call from Derek asking what was going on and if Lydia was okay. I heard Cora in the background telling Derek to stop being such a mama bear,” he chuckled and shook his head, “But then he got the same message as us. Do you see what those crazy girls in our pack do?” He asked, “Does no one understand that we shouldn’t use our supernatural powers unless there’s trouble?” Scott was mostly kidding, but for a few seconds he had been terrified mostly because he’d felt some distress from her earlier in the day.   
  
Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed at that. “They were testing a theory? What kind of theory? Did they explain at lunch?” he asked, frowning. Before he had a chance to think about it anymore or ask questions, he heard the doorbell ring. He sighed and pushed himself up and slung his legs over the side of the bed, rising to his feet.   
  
He glanced back at Scott as he headed for the hallway. He didn’t know who was ringing the bell because even Lydia had her own key now.   
  
Scott pushed himself off the bed and followed his friend wondering if maybe Allison had decided to stop by today after all. He was halfway down the steps when he froze. He tilted his head to the side catching a familiar voice outside the door.   
  
Scott spotted the sheriff his hand reaching out and grasping the doorknob. “No, sheriff, no,” but by the time the second ‘no’ was out Michael already had the door open.   
  
He frowned when he saw Rafael McCall standing there with two officers from his station. Michael’s body tensed. “What the hell is going on here McCall?”   
  
Rafael held up the paper, “I’ve got a warrant to bring Stiles in...where is he?” he asked keeping his voice even.   
  
Stiles heard Scott’s urgency and glanced at him over his shoulder with worried eyes even as he stepped into the living room, stilling at the sight of Scott’s dad standing there. He could see the way that his dad tensed, already ready to fight and he couldn’t let him do that. He’d end up losing his job if he tried to stop Rafael from bringing him in on a warrant. “He’s right here,” he said blankly, feeling numb. “I need to get dressed.”   
  
Rafael looked away from Michael and over at Stiles. “You’ve got five minutes and don’t try to leave the premises.” He said his tone all business.   
  
“Now just wait a minute,” Michael stepped forward not about to let Rafael just drag his son down to the station.   
  
“Dad,” Stiles interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t, really. But it was more important that his dad keep his job than he not get hauled down to the station.   
  
Scott barreled down the stairs. “No, you can’t do this.” He said the anger clear in his tone. “Where do you get off coming into town and ruining everyone’s life?” He shouted.   
  
Rafael glanced over at his son. “Stay out of this Scott.” There was a warning in his tone.   
  
Scott took a step closer to him, “You stay out of it!” He shouted his voice loud and deep.   
  
Michael took a step forward and placed his hand carefully on Scott’s shoulder. “Scott, I need you to calm down.” He said his voice low.   
  
Stiles reached out to Scott, too, gazing at him intently, surprised by his own feeling of calmness. “Dad’s right. You’ve gotta keep your cool man. It’s gonna be fine.” He wasn’t sure that was true, but it sure sounded like he believed it.   
  
“Clock is ticking, Stiles,” Agent McCall informed him. “Four minutes.”   
  
Michael’s gaze shifted to Rafael, his eyes turning to slits. “He can take however long he needs to get dressed. Do you hear me McCall?” He glanced over his shoulder at Stiles and nodded towards the stairs, his hand still on Scott. He could hear how heavily Scott was breathing and he knew that wasn’t good. Michael didn’t exactly know how angry Scott had to be to change, but he had a feeling the teenager was getting close.   
  
“Scott. _Scottie._ ” Stiles’ voice was firm. “Come on. Come upstairs with me.” He was a lot more worried about his best friend wolfing out in front of Agent McCall than he was about being dragged off for interrogation and likely jail. He gripped onto Scott’s arm.   
  
It took everything in Scott not to flash his teeth at his gene donor. He stood there for a minute holding his ground before letting Stiles tug him gently up the stairs. Scott blinked and they were in Stiles’ room or at least that’s what it felt like. His chest was tight and his body burned with the need to stake his claim and destroy the person threatening his pack. “You can’t go...we can leave I can grab you and we could go,” he suggested finally meeting Stiles’ gaze.   
  
He was more than relieved when Scott allowed him to drag him up the stairs and into his room. He gently guided him to his desk chair and made him sit down. “No, we can’t,” he said quietly. He stripped his Beacon Hills shirt off and tossed it onto the desk before moving to his closet and grabbing a clean shirt from his closet. He tugged it on over his head before grabbing a pair of jeans from his dresser next.   
  
“There’s too much at stake. I’m not the only person in the pack. The others need you, and they need you calm and level-headed, and not on the run from the FBI.” He let out a breath, changing out of his sweatpants and tugging the jeans on next. He turned to look at Scott. “And if I run, they’ll go after my dad even more than they already have been.” He pulled on a pair of socks and rummaged around in his closet for a pair of sneakers. How long had it even been since he’d gone outside? He couldn’t remember.   
  
Scott winced, “How can you be so calm?” He asked while watching Stiles get dressed. “This isn’t fair. He shouldn’t be allowed to come here and disrupt everything.” Scott said as he swallowed hard.   
  
“Because I have to be,” Stiles told him. Because one of them had to be, and he wasn’t sure that Scott was going to be capable right then. This was how they worked, really. When one was distraught or angry, the other tended to be calm and collected to balance the other out. Sure, there were plenty of times over the years where they’d both been angry or upset, but overall, one of them tended to regain a level-head. He hesitated. “You should probably stay here.”   
  
Scott’s head jerked up at Stiles words. “No, there’s no way I’m leaving you so you can go with him. This isn’t fair Stiles, he’s doing this on purpose, he’s trying to punish you and I don’t know why,” he said quietly his fits clenching.   
  
Stiles had a pretty good idea of exactly why Rafael McCall hated him and his dad so badly, but he’d kept silent about it for this long. He wasn’t going to spring it all on Scott now. “I just rub some people the wrong way. Plus, you know. Bad influence on his only son and everything.” His voice was light as he bent down to tie his shoes.   
  
Scott shook his head. “You’re not a bad influence,” he said quietly as he stared at the door. God he hated his father. Why did he have to come back at all? He was such an asshole. His hands clenched again and he swallowed hard his gaze going to Stiles who had just finished tying one shoe and was working on the other. Prada let out a soft bark and ran around Stiles feet.   
  
Stiles reached out and petted Prada’s head gently, scooping her up in his arms and moving over to the bed where he set her down. “Please don’t use this as your personal toilet while I’m gone.” He glanced at Scott, noting the clenched fists. He walked over and pressed a hand to his shoulder. “Look at me.”   
  
Scott took a deep breath and then glanced up at Stiles, “Yeah?” He asked quietly.   
  
He met Scott’s eyes and held his gaze. “You’ve gotta keep calm. Okay? For me.” His voice was just as quiet. Serious. “And for my dad.”   
  
Scott pursed his lips and took a deep breath. He nodded knowing Stiles was right. He was going to do the best he could. “Your dad and I will follow you down to the station,” he offered trying to keep the anger locked inside his chest.   
  
“All right.” Stiles nodded, too, searching Scott’s eyes for another moment before taking a deep breath and heading toward the door, chewing his thumbnail on the way down the stairs. He could hear his dad’s voice, quiet but angry as he and Agent McCall spoke. He reached out and put his hand on his dad’s shoulder, squeezing it silently before shifting his gaze to McCall.   
  
Rafael looked at him for a moment, then pulled a pair of handcuffs off his belt. “Turn around,” he said and when Stiles did he stepped forward “Stiles Stilinski you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent when questioned. Anything you say and do can and will be used against you in the court of law.” He clasped the metal over the teenager’s wrist.   
  
“You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. If you cannot afford an attorney one will be appointed for you before any questioning, if you wish. Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?” He asked eyebrow arched.   
  
Before Stiles could say a word both the sheriff and Scott spoke in unison, “No.”   
  
Stiles would’ve smiled at how quickly they both answered for him, but he looked up at Rafael instead. “Can I ask one?”   
  
Rafael arched an eyebrow, but nodded, “One and then I need to get you down to the station.” He said warily.   
  
“Think we can swing through a drive-through? I’m dying for some curly fries,” he said innocently.   
  
Scott grinned as did Michael though he tried to hide it.   
  
Rafael glared at Stiles and glanced toward the officers, “Take him to the car and toss him in the back.”   
  
Scott had to stop himself from growling. He sent Michael a sideways glance, “We have to call mom.” He said his tone quiet.   
  
Michael’s chest was tight as Scott’s father and two officers hauled Stiles out of the house and toward the government issued car in the road. “We will.” His voice was grim.   
  
“Hey, hey, watch it,” Stiles complained. “I’ve still got a broken rib,” he informed the officers as one yanked open the back of the car.   
  
Michael stepped forward, “I’m watching you two! I see one hair on my son’s head harmed and the two of you are fired for police brutality.” He called out his voice annoyed. Michael winced as they shut the door behind Stiles. He turned to Rafael, “Get the hell out of my house and if you question my son before I get there I’m going to call in your superiors.” He snapped.   
  
Rafael glowered at him for a moment before shifting his gaze to Scott. “You really should find better friends, Scott,” he said before turning and heading out of the house without looking back.   
  
Scott glared at his retreating back and when the car was out of sight his chest tightened. “We should go, we have to go. We can’t leave Stiles there. I can’t believe they...god I’m sorry this is my fault. I don’t know why he’s here...I can’t,” Scott paused, “We should go.” He said quietly his head down.   
  
Michael laid his hand on Scott’s shoulder. “We’re going. But let’s get one thing _very_ straight here, son. This isn’t your fault. You’ve been nothing but a goddamn blessing to my son, and to me, since the day the two of you met, and don’t you _ever_ forget that. Are we clear?” His voice was rough.   
  
Scott nodded, his chest tight, “Thanks,” he whispered ignoring the moisture in his eyes. He glanced down at the floor. “Stiles has been the same for me, you know that right?” He asked quietly as he looked up at the sheriff.   
  
There was a pained expression on his face as he gave a quick nod, then wrapped his arms around Scott in a fierce hug. “Come on. I’ll drive if you’ll call your mom.” He wasn’t sure he was capable of delivering this kind of news to Melissa right now.   
  
Scott nodded as he followed the sheriff out the door.   


______

  
  
Lydia stepped out of the coffee shop, Ms. McCall by her side. She held a cup of coffee in one hand and several bags in the other. They had met up downtown after school and had been talking and shopping ever since. She took a sip of her coffee and glanced at Ms. McCall hesitating before speaking. “This is really nice,” she said quietly as they continued walking down the street.   
  
Melissa smiled softly, sipping her own coffee. “Yes it is,” she agreed with a nod. “And I can tell you about how many times I’ve been able to convince Scott and Stiles to come _shopping_ with me without using blackmail.” Her voice was light.   
  
Lydia chuckled, “Yeah, those two aren’t the biggest shoppers out there.” She said with grin, “But anytime you want to go you can call me,” she said lightly, “I’d be happy to.” Lydia couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something like this with her own mother. She was genuinely having a good time with Ms. McCall.   
  
“Oh, Sweetheart. I forsee a lot of shopping trips in the future.” She grinned, draping an arm around Lydia’s shoulders. “How was school today, by the way?”   
  
Lydia glanced sideways surprised by the question. “Oh, school was okay. Classes were fine, I was a little bored, but that’s not unusual.” She commented. She enjoyed some of her classes, but two or three of them never quite seemed to catch up to where she was in the text. “Allison and I made up today,” she said softly with a smile. “I’ve missed her,” she added.   
  
“Well, that’s not surprising, really. Even advanced classes aren’t advanced enough for a young woman with as sharp of a mind as yours.” She listened as Lydia spoke, nodding and smiling faintly at the mention of Allison. She knew things had been shaky within their circle of friends since Stiles had been possessed, and she was glad to hear that they were starting to sort things out. She hoped it continued to get better for all of them because at the end of the day, these were _children_ who were dealing with things no children should even have to think about, let alone deal with. “I’m glad to hear that.”   
  
Lydia smiled, “I’m glad too,” she said. It was nice having someone actually ask about her day, Lydia had forgotten what that was like. “I missed Stiles though,” she admitted, not entirely sure what made her say the words she’d been thinking all day. “It’s different when he’s not there.” Lydia told her before taking another sip of her coffee.   
  
A tiny smile touched Melissa’s mouth. “I’m sure you did. And it’s always different when Stiles isn’t around and you’re used to him being around.” It was different for _her_. It was different not having Isaac around, for that matter. She didn’t like not having all of her kids around. There was something inherently wrong about it.   
  
Lydia nodded, “It is. Lunch feels weird without him,” and everyone was sort of paired off except her, but she kept that comment to herself. It made her miss him even more. “So which store-” Lydia’s words cut off abruptly as a massive wave of guilt slammed into her knocking the breath out of her. She gasped pausing in the middle of the sidewalk almost losing grip on her coffee.   
  
Lydia felt her heartbeat start to pick up speed and she frowned. “Stiles.” She whispered. She stopped in her tracks, gasping.   
  
Melissa moved so she was in front of the redhead. “Lydia? What is it?” She grew worried when she whispered Stiles’ name. She wasn’t entirely sure how it all worked, but she knew that Lydia and Stiles and Scott were all somehow connected to one another.   
  
Lydia opened her mouth, but before she got a chance to say anything another barrage of emotion hit her and this time she did drop her coffee, her hand going to her stomach as her face paled. Stiles was worried. The guilt and shame filling her stomach was making her sick. Something was wrong though. Someone was making him feel those things. Her chest tightened and she sucked in a sharp breath. “Something’s wrong, I need -we need to find Stiles,” she said wincing.   
  
“Okay, Sweetheart. Take a deep breath,” Melissa instructed calmly, reaching out and cupping a cheek in her hand. She reached into her purse with her other hand, pulling out her phone.   
  
Lydia’s brows drew together and she frowned. “He’s not home, why isn’t he home?” She asked not even sure how she knew that. She could feel panic settling in her chest and she wasn’t sure if it was hers or Stiles’. “Can I come with you? Can we go?” She asked softly.   
  
“Just tell me where we need to go,” Melissa agreed, both worried about Stiles _and_ Lydia. God. What could possibly happen to these poor kids _now?_   


______

  
  
Stiles sat silently in the interrogation room, feeling unusually cold in the metal chair. There was goosebumps on his arms, but that was probably because he was slightly terrified of what was going to happen. He didn’t know any possible way to get himself out of this kind of trouble. He didn’t even know if he should try. Rafael McCall had evidence of the things he’d done, and he doubted that getting him to believe anything that contradicted said evidence was going to be possible.   
  
At least they’d re-handcuffed him in front of his body instead of behind him. The ride over hadn’t been pleasant, full of bumps and potholes and jolts that freakin’ hurt his ribs, and the handcuffs behind his back had made his left shoulder ache painfully even though he hadn’t had pain from that injury in days.   
  
He looked up as Rafael entered the room, looking all too smug and knowing. He really didn’t know how the guy had ended up lucky enough to have a son like _Scott_ , and his dad ended up with _him_. It probably should have been the other way around, really. “I never got my curly fries,” Stiles informed him, leaning back in the chair.   
  
Rafael arched an eyebrow, “I’ll be sure to put it on the menu for your last meal before we ship you off to maximum security prison.” He said sliding into the seat across from Stiles folder in his hand. “I’m going to ask you a few questions and you’re going to answer them honestly. Understood?” He asked folding his arms on the table.   
  
Stiles didn’t react to his words, simply sat still and silent, eyes focused on the folder he’d laid down. He knew what was in that folder. Maybe not the specifics, but he knew what the basics were, and they weren’t good.   
  
“I have two witnesses that put you at Eichlen House on the night it burned down. Can you tell me where you were that night?” He asked.   
  
He probably should have spent more time thinking about how he was going to answer these questions since he’d known they were coming eventually. He was surprised it had taken Rafael this long to get a warrant, really. But his dad had already given him an alibi, and while it might not count, he didn’t want to contradict his dad, either. Lying felt wrong, but his worry about his father’s job took precedence. “I was at home. Sleeping,” he said evenly.   
  
Rafael pursed his lips, “And the day the sheriff’s station blew up, where were you that day?” He inquired opened the folder and making a note inside on one of the papers.   
  
His gaze darted instinctively to the glass window behind McCall’s frame and he wondered if his dad was out there, watching. He knew of course, that Stiles was one hundred percent guilty of everything he was being accused of. But Stiles didn’t know how to answer. Not really. Scott would tell the truth if their situations were reversed. It was what good people did.   
  
“Sick. I was out sick from school.”   
  
Rafael watched Stiles closely for a minute. “I want to show you something,” he said as he pulled out a couple of pictures from the folder. He slid them across the table towards Stiles. “Those are pictures of the sheriff station after part of it was blown up. A lot of people were hurt there Stiles.” He told him.   
  
Stiles blanched involuntarily as Rafael shoved the pictures across the table, forcing him to look at them. He didn’t need to do a case study. The memories in his mind were in vivid, 3-D terror. If anything, his face paled at the memory of how close he’d gotten to killing his _dad_. Guilt swept over him, horrible, sharp and intense. He forced himself to take a deep breath and let it out. “Yes, I’m aware of what it looked like. My dad is the sheriff,” he said, voice blank.   
  
“Someone said they saw you earlier that day.” Rafael told him, “You said you were dropping something off for your dad. What did you bring him?”   
  
_Attempted murder,_ he thought bitterly, practically hearing the Nogitsune laughing at him. “Lunch.”   
  
Rafael sighed, “This would go a lot smoother Stiles if you just confessed. We could make a deal.” He said keeping his tone light.   
  
Scott could hear them from the other side of the mirror and the more his father spoke the more Scott wanted to rush in there and toss him against the wall. It was getting harder by the minute to control the instincts driving inside of him, but he knew he had to try. “Did you get in touch with mom yet?” He asked the sheriff quietly. After he initially tried to call an she didn’t answer the sheriff had been calling back periodically.   
  
“Just voicemail,” Michael murmured, leaning his forearm against the glass as he stared intently at his son. He was tense, watching as a man he loathed interrogated Stiles over crimes that Stiles had no control over.   
  
“I think I’m done making deals with devils in this life,” Stiles informed Rafael, pushing the pictures of the destroyed sheriff’s station back over to him.   
  
Rafael was getting frustrated. “Dammit Stiles!” He snapped, his hands slamming down on the table creating a loud noise in the room. “Tell me what I want to know,” he said his hands once again smacking onto the table.   
  
The door to the interrogation room burst open seconds later and before Rafael could yell at whoever had burst through the door, something was around his neck and he was being slammed against the wall. He grunted clutching the hand at his throat, his eyes going wide when he spotted his son, eyes glowing red, teeth elongated.   
  
Stiles head jerked up and the words _oh shit_ immediately came to mind when the door burst open because whether it was his dad or whether it was Scott was a moot point. It meant shit was going to go down, and things were going to get really, really bad.   
  
Scott let out a growl, the combination of his anger, Stiles’ fear and his primal instinct to protect a member of his pack from a perceived threat was strong, it pulled at him, and he wasn’t entirely sure he could hold the full transformation back for long. “Leave him alone!” He shouted, but his voice was low, threatening and not entirely human.   
  
The second Stiles saw Scott’s eyes flash red, he actually winced in near-sympathy for Rafael. Almost. It wasn’t like the guy wasn’t just doing his job, really. But he’d made the mistake of making all of it much more personal than it should have been.   
  
Stiles quickly shot to his feet as Scott hauled his dad across the room and slammed him into a wall. “Dude, you gotta calm down,” he ordered, eyes wide as he moved to Scott’s side. He tried to reach out and put a hand on his best friend’s shoulder but he was handcuffed and that was easier said than done.   
  
“What the _hell_ ,” Rafael whispered, staring at his son wide-eyed, like he’d never seen him before.   
  
Then again, he really hadn’t, as far as Stiles was concerned.   
  
Michael ran through the door worry on his face. If the rest of the department saw Scott like this...it wouldn’t be good. “Scott calm down, son take a deep breath. You need to calm down.” He said holding his hands up in a calming gesture as he glanced at Rafael. He addressed the other man, “You have no idea what goes on in this town Rafael...what we need to do to protect the people in it. You’re barking up the wrong tree and I think it’s about time you left. My son isn’t guilty of these crimes and he won’t be confessing anytime soon.” He told him as he glanced at Scott. “Scott...let go of him,” he said quietly.   
  
“Why? Why should I?” Scott asked his eyes still glowing as he pressed Rafael harder against the wall. “You’re threatening my family... _My pack_.That’s not okay,” he growled.   
  
The sound of rushing feet and heels caught Michael’s attention and when he glanced at the door he spotted Melissa and Lydia. He blinked a hint of relief on his face when his eyes locked on Melissa’s as he nodded towards Scott knowing Melissa was good at calming her son down. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the officers at the station heard the commotion and came to check what was happening.   
  
“Scott. Scott, come on,” Stiles said, voice more soothing than it had been a moment before. “Come on, man. You don’t want to do this. Not really.” He shot his dad a pleading look, tensing involuntarily until he realized who had come in.   
  
“Sweetheart.” Melissa reached out and laid a hand on her son’s arm, locking eyes with her ex-husband and pinning him with a glare that was almost as frightening as the look on Scott’s face right then. “Let him go.”   
  
Stiles looked at Lydia, holding his breath. This could get really bad, really fast if they couldn’t get Scott calmed down and he really didn’t want Lydia caught up in the middle of it. He managed to grasp onto her arm with one hand, and guided her toward the door.   
  
“What the hell is going on in here?” one of the newer deputies demanded. Stiles recognized him -- sort of. He’d never actually met the guy since he’d been hired while Stiles had been possessed by the Nogitsune.   
  
“He’s trying to escape!” the deputy shouted behind him, and Stiles groaned as he heard footsteps approaching, a lot of footsteps. _Fuck._ He cast a desperate look over his shoulder at Scott, willing his best friend to put away the claws and fangs before this turned into an even bigger nightmare.   
  
Lydia glanced over her shoulder at the closest deputy. She shook off Stiles’ arm, reached forward and tugged the ring of keys from the deputy’s belt before shoving him back. He stumbled back banging into the wall not expecting the push. And Lydia gently pushed Stiles back into the interrogation room slamming the door behind them and pressing her back against it. “I’m going to need help with the door.” She said fumbling around with the keys trying to find the one that looked like it went with Stiles’ cuffs.   
  
She could hear Melissa talking to Scott softly and then the sheriff joined in. “You want to protect Stiles, but you’re going to get in trouble if you don’t let him go Scott...how will you protect your pack if you’re not around anymore?” he asked his voice calm.   
  
Scott’s hand clenched around Rafael’s neck, before slowly releasing it. He could feel his mother and the sheriff’s hands on him and that helped a bit. It took him a minute but his grip finally loosened.   
  
Rafael collapsed to the ground coughing as Scott stepped back taking a few calming breaths. It was only then he really took in his surroundings. “When did you guys get here?” He asked as he glanced between his mom and Lydia watching as she took off Stiles’ handcuffs.   
  
Yep definitely turning into a bigger nightmare. Stiles was having a hard time fathoming how any of them were going to not end up spending the rest of their lives in jail for assaulting a federal agent, and for attempting to escape police custody and a myriad of other possible charges and it was all so surreal that he couldn’t help but quickly count his fingers to make sure there were only ten.   
  
Thank God there were only ten.   
  
Stiles pressed his body back against the door even as someone on the other side banged loudly against it, obviously trying to get in. It wasn’t like his meager body was going to do much to prevent it from happening, so when he saw Scott’s claws retracting he exhaled, shutting his eyes.   
  
“Just a few moments ago. Lydia felt trouble and we ended up here,” Melissa explained to her son, looking at Michael with worried eyes.   
  
“Someone gonna explain to me what the fuck is going on? What the hell is wrong with my son?” Rafael demanded, slowly climbing to his feet and staring at Scott like he was something out of a horror novel.   
  
And that was when Stiles snapped. He shoved himself away from the door, glaring at Rafael with nothing short of fury burning in his eyes. “There’s not a fucking thing wrong with your son and he deserves a better father than you’ve _ever_ been.” It took every ounce of restraint Stiles had not to punch Rafael right in his stupid face. “You’re so goddamn clueless it’s amazing. How did you _ever_ get through the FBI’s academy in the first place?”   
  
Rafael turned to Stiles and glared at him, “Listen to me you little-” his words were cut off by his son.   
  
“I’d watch my words if I were you,” Scott said his voice low, “I’m feeling a bit homicidal at the moment.” He said matter-of-factly.   
  
Michael would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so bad. Before Scott could say anything else the door to the interrogation room slammed open knocking Lydia forward.   
  
When Rafael saw the other cops he motioned to the three teenagers. “Arrest all three of them and put them in a holding cell.” He glanced between Melissa and the sheriff. “You two are going to sit down and tell me what the hell is going on.” He demanded and three officers made their way into the already crowded room.   
  
Lydia stepped back towards Stiles away from the officers.   
  
“Oh you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Stiles mumbled. “She didn’t even do anything!” he protested. Which okay, wasn’t exactly true, but no one had been hurt. Rafael didn’t count and Lydia wasn’t the one who’d thrown him against the wall anyway.   
  
“On it, Sir,” one of the deputies agreed, reaching out and snapping handcuffs on Lydia’s wrists.   
  
“Come on, the holding cells are like fifteen feet away. Jesus Christ, handcuffs aren’t exactly necessary,” Stiles said, frustrated.   
  
Rafael smirked at the kid’s anger, but remained silent.   
  
Lydia used her boot and kicked the deputy in the shin making him groan. “I know my rights,” she said glaring at them. “And when I get out of here I’m suing this department for hiring a bunch of inept imbeciles,” she snapped.   
  
The other officer reached out and jerked her forward.   
  
“Ow,” Lydia swallowed hard and Scott could feel the anger building inside of him again. The sheriff put his fingers in his mouth and whistled drawing everyone’s attention to him. Everyone in the room froze.   
  
“Listen, Scott, Stiles, let the deputies restrain you and go with Lydia to the holding cell. I’m still sheriff of this station and we’ve got a lot going on that needs to be worked out. It’s best if the three of your cooperate so we can show them that you weren’t trying to escape or assault any officers,” his gaze drifted to Lydia. “Alright?”   
  
Lydia swallowed hard, “I want to be with Stiles and Scott,” she said quickly trying to read the situation.   
  
Michael’s expression softened. “You’ll be beside each other.” He said quietly.   
  
Stiles sighed heavily, reaching up and rubbing his eyes and wanting to protest that this was bullshit. The only one of them who actually committed a crime had been him and his friends shouldn’t be punished for that. He let one of the deputies put handcuffs on him once more, leading him none-too-gently out of the room with a firm hand on his shoulder, squeezing just a little too tightly and making him grit his teeth.   
  
He couldn’t help but wonder what; exactly, his dad and Melissa were going to tell Rafael.   
  
Melissa watched Scott glare at the other deputy who slid the cuffs onto his wrists and lead him out of the room. When all of the teenagers were gone Melissa turned towards Rafael. “How dare you treat them like that. You might be FBI, but I don’t think your superiors would be happy with the way you’ve been treating these kids,” she snapped.   
  
Michael placed a hand on her shoulder, his patience far from gone. He stepped forward and met Rafael’s gaze. “I want to see this so called evidence you have on my son. I want to talk to the witnesses, I want to see the warrant and I want to talk to the judge who issues it.” He stated firmly. Something didn’t feel right about this whole thing.   
  
“You saw the warrant,” Rafael reminded him. He motioned to the table. “Now, one of you needs to tell me what’s going on with my _son._ ” He folded his arms across his chest, looking none too happy.   
  
The sheriff glanced at Melissa, not sure if she wanted to tell Rafael or if she wanted him to try and deal with the fallout.   
  
Melissa’s eyes were dark and narrowed as she stared at her ex-husband. “ _My_ son has had a lot to deal with the last few years, and I’m sorry, but --” She paused. “No, actually, I’m not sorry at all. You’re the one who screwed up. Not me. And not Scott.”   
  
“That doesn’t answer my question Melissa. What the hell happened to him? He was...his eyes. And he had teeth,” he paused sucked in a sharp breath, “It looked like he was some kind of animal,” he told her not sure what he was even saying.   
  
“Scott is a good kid,” Michael said, “He’s not an animal. That’s a pretty terrible thing to say about your own kid.” He said, his voice hard.   
  
“Like Michael said, there’s a lot about this town that you don’t know. That you wouldn’t begin to understand.” Hell, half the time Melissa didn’t really understand it either. “All you need to know is that Scott’s just fine, and you’re looking in the wrong place for answers.”   
  
Rafael glanced between them as if they had multiple heads. “Are the two of you crazy? Did you not see what just happened in here?” He asked baffled, “ _My_ son tried to choke me in the middle of a police station. He grew claws and fangs for godsake!” He nearly shouted. “And everyone here seems to know what’s going on except for me. So you’re going to tell me what I want to know, or I’m booking Scott for assault of a federal agent.”   
  
Michael was starting to lose his patience with this asshole. Where the hell did he get off threatening his family?   
  
Melissa was practically seething with rage, but she knew she had to rein in her own anger because if she didn’t, Scott was going to be out of that holding cell in no time flat. She forced herself to take a deep breath. “Sit down,” she said, pointing at the table and not waiting for a response before she moved to shut the door.   
  
Rafael did as she asked, sliding slowly into the seat and glancing between her and Michael. “Alright, let’s have it.” He said his voice deadly quiet.   
  
Michael pulled out one of the chairs in front of him for Melissa and motioned for her to sit. If they were going to do this they should probably all be sitting.   
  
Melissa sat down beside Michael and across from her ex-husband, her eyes still dark and angry. “Scott’s a werewolf,” she said point blank, not in the mood to joke around. “And before you dismiss it and say how ridiculous it is, remind yourself that five minutes ago he had glowing red eyes, fangs and claws.”   
  
Rafael opened and closed his mouth several times. He wanted to dispute it, say there was no such thing, but he saw what he saw, felt what he felt, hell there was even a scratch still on his neck. “How?” He asked finally.   
  
“Because there’s a lot more to this world and to Beacon Hills than any of us ever imagined could be real,” she said simply. “He was bitten almost two years ago and he’s been a werewolf ever since.” She folded her arms across her chest. “And the things that have happened recently in this town aren’t things that can be explained easily or dealt with by normal methods.”   
  
Rafael stared at them for a minute before sighing and running a hand over his face. When he had come back months ago to try and get back into Melissa’s and his sons life, he hadn’t signed up for this. Werewolves, exploding buildings, arson, murders. What the hell had happened to Beacon Hills? Rafael sure as hell didn’t know. “A werewolf.” He repeated, “This is ridiculous…” he mumbled.   
  
Michael shifted forward in his seat resting his arms on the table. “This is our life,” he said pointedly, “And I’m going to do you a favor.” He told the other man pointedly. “You’re going to pack your shit up, clear my son of any charges you were going to put on him, and get the hell out of my town.” He demanded.   
  
“I noticed none of my men, the ones I hired and work with on a daily basis came to my house demanding my son’s arrest and they are good cops all the way. If they thought he did what you say he did, they would have come. But something tells me you exaggerated your evidence and that stops now.” Michael said his tone hard.   
  
“These kids have been through enough. This is my station until anyone says otherwise. I want you and the three deputies that were in here before gone and I want you all gone tonight.”   
  
Rafael arched an eyebrow, “Another ultimatum Michael? Why am I not surprised,” he said leaning back in his seat. “This definitely takes me back several years.” He commented his gaze shifting to Melissa briefly.   
  
Melissa didn’t look impressed by Rafael’s words that this was ridiculous. She just looked annoyed. She sat forward a little when Michael spoke, glancing at him sideways and then back at her ex, hoping he’d take the words to heart. She was tired of dealing with him, and she was tired of the way he dealt with the kids.   
  
But Rafael’s next words gave her pause and she looked at Michael curiously before turning back to look at Rafael once more. “He’s right. You need to go.”   
  
Rafael pursed his lips and nodded, “It seems Michael’s good at kicking me out of town.” He said nonchalantly. “You did tell Melissa that’s why I left her right?” He asked cocking his head to the side, “Because you threatened me and told me if I didn’t leave town I’d spend the next 5-to-7 years in jail.”   
  
Michael’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his side. He probably should have turned him in when he had the chance all those years ago, but he hadn’t wanted to put Melissa and Scott through that. But if he had they wouldn’t be sitting here right now.   
  
“Well, Michael’s always been a very good judge of character,” Melissa responded evenly, staring hard at Rafael. “I only wish I could say the same about myself.”   
  
Rafael’s jaw ticked and he shook his head, “He can’t do any wrong in your eyes can he.” He responded his voice hard. “You know I always wondered about you two...After Claudia,” he paused, “I always wondered why the two of your were so close. But I can see it now you know.” He pointed between them, “I can see whatever this is that it’s not just friendship...maybe it wasn’t back then either. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who cheated.” He said wanting to get a rise out of her.   
  
Michael shoved his chair back, the scratch of the metal against the floor sounding sharply through the room. “That’s enough, you’re done. I want you out of my station, now!” He snapped, barely controlled anger filling his voice.   
  
Melissa’s jaw tightened at the insinuation. “Actually that’s just your own guilty conscience talking,” she informed him. “We grew close because our boys are best friends who only had each other and the two of us, even when you were still around. As far as now?” She leaned forward. “It’s none of your damn business. You’ve been out of our lives for six years and you have no right to come back and pretend like nothing happened, or to pass any kind of judgment on either of us, or on the boys.” She rose to her feet as well. “If you come near Scott or Stiles again, I’ll file a restraining order against you myself.”   
  
Rafael stood up slowly, glaring at both of them before turning and heading for the door. He pulled it open and stepped out of the interrogation room slamming the door shut behind him making it rattle in his wake.   
  
Michael stood there silently for a minute before turning to Melissa and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” He asked softly.   
  
She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, turning to look at him. “Yes, but I have to admit I’m curious. What was he talking about?”   
  
Michael hesitated pursing his lips together. He let out a long breath. “The day before he left, you had a crazy triple shift at the hospital because you were covering for a friend, do you remember? You left Rafael in charge of Scott?” He asked.   
  
Melissa was silent for a moment, studying his face, then nodding slowly. “Yeah, I remember.” She remembered everything about that day, because it had been crazy, and because her husband had left her the next day.   
  
“Well, I had just gotten out of work, it was practically dark out and I picked Stiles up from the babysitters and we were going to get food.” He paused, “And while I was driving down the road I saw Scott alone and crying walking by himself.” He whispered.   
  
“I stopped and he had no clue where Rafael was so I told him that it was fine and he asked me to pick him up. So I took them both to McDonalds and let them eat and play while I made a few calls.” He sighed, “My deputies found Rafael drunk beyond recognition in a motel near the highway with,” he hesitated, “with company.” He said delicately.   
  
“I remember being so furious that I asked one of the deputies to come stay with the kids so I could go down there myself.” Michael’s chest tightened. “I told him he didn’t deserve you or Scott, that his son was wondering around town alone at night looking for him...and that if he didn’t leave town I’d book him and arrest him for child abandonment and prostitution.” Michael glanced down. He would never forget the look on Scott’s face when he found him and he felt justified that he’d made the right decision at the time to protect the people he cared about most.   
  
Melissa stared at him with wide eyes for a full minute before she could even speak. The news about Rafael’s infidelity wasn’t the least bit surprising. But the news that he’d abandoned their son at such a young age to fend for himself was horrifying and she lifted a hand to her mouth, an almost involuntary reaction. She would have killed him if she’d known. There would have been no stopping her. He could do a lot -- including scream at her at the top of his lungs while piss-drunk, but no one messed with her son.   
  
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she whispered.   
  
Michael took a step forward and cupped her cheek. “Because you’re an amazing Mother. I don’t know what I would have done without you over the years. Stiles loves you so much and Scott, Scott worships the ground you walk on,” he told her quietly. “I knew a part of you would have blamed yourself for leaving Scott with him and I didn’t want you to have to deal with that burden.” He explained. “You have always been very independent and you’ve always picked up Rafael’s slack. I’m in awe of that, but I knew what that would do to you and I didn't have the heart to do that.” Michael responded quietly.   
  
Melissa’s eyes watered at his words and she blinked back the tears there as she leaned into his touch. She sighed softly, then pressed her lips to his cheek, leaning her head against his. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me. For Scott.” She rested a hand over his heart, feeling it beat beneath her palm.   
  
Michael swallowed heavily and pressed a hand to the small of her back. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for my family,” he told her gruffly. “Now, what do you say we go out front, talk to _my_ guys and get all this stuff handled so we can have the kids out and home by dinner? I’m thinking Chinese.” He said keeping his tone light.   
  
She smiled faintly at that, nodding. “I think Chinese sounds really good.”   
  
Michael grinned, “Good, come on,” he said as he took her hand and lead her out of the interrogation room.   


______

  
  
Scott sighed as he sat slumped on the small bench in the holding cell. He glanced down at the handcuffs tugging gently testing the metal that bound him. He hated being restricted. It made his fight or flight reflexes kick in. He grunted and leaned over trying to see if he could spot the clock on the far end of the wall. "God, I'm so damned bored. I feel like we've been in here for hours." He whined sighing again.   
  
Lydia rolled her eyes. "Stop being so dramatic," she commented, "You want to talk about injustice? That stupid deputy chipped my manicure. I just got them done with your mother." She told them annoyed. When she glanced up they were staring at her. "What?"   
  
A tiny smirk touched Stiles’ face and he shook his head, resting back against the bars that separated their cells. He sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling. “Well technically, Lyds, you did kick him, which is assault against a police officer. Not that I blame you because he deserved it, but…” He glanced at Scott over the bench. “I don’t think any of us is having a good time, Scott.”   
  
Lydia's mouth dropped open. "He provoked me and violated my rights. I'm a minor. He's lucky I didn't kick him further north," she mumbled.   
  
Scott snorted and then grinned. "I can't believe you kicked a cop."   
  
Lydia huffed, "Well you were no better." She said reaching a hand through the bars and brushing it against Stiles' hand.   
  
“He totally deserved a knee to the nuts,” Stiles agreed loyally, wrapping his fingers around hers and feeling a bit calmer than before, even though he’d been relatively calm considering they were in actual jail.   
  
Scott shook his head and glanced at Stiles, "Sorry man. I'm just feeling kinda cooped up, like I'm in a cage." He said with a wince.   
  
“Well, that makes sense. Since, you know...we are in a cage,” Stiles pointed out. He sighed, wishing they hadn’t cuffed him behind his back again because now his shoulder really hurt. He was doing his best to ignore the pain. What else could he really do?   
  
Scott made a small noise in the back of his throat. "I could get us out, but I feel like that would probably be a bad move on my part." He admitted with a sigh.   
  
Lydia sighed too, "It would be. We just need to sit and wait. Your parents will get us out, I'm not worried," she said keeping her tone light, "Though I could use a drink." She said squeezing Stiles' hand. "How bad does it hurt?" She asked, her tone a whisper. She could feel the slow burn of pain coming from him and it worried her.   
  
Scott's ears caught Lydia's words and he straightened up. "What's wrong?"   
  
Stiles grimaced at that, sighing inaudibly and rolling his head to look at his best friend since he couldn’t look at Lydia _and_ hold her hand when they were back to back. “It’s not that bad. It’s not comfortable but it’s not the worst pain ever, either. Just...shoulder pain.” He shrugged with his good shoulder. “Nothing to stress about.”   
  
Scott looked out of the holding cell and glared. "I'm never going to look at law enforcement the same way in this town," he said a hint of anger in his voice. "They shouldn't have manhandled either of you." He told his friend.   
  
Scott was quiet for a minute. "I'm really sorry about the gene donor," he said softly. "I'm sorry he's such a dick." He sighed.   
  
Lydia curled her fingers as best she could around Stiles' hand as Scott spoke offering him some quiet comfort.   
  
Stiles squeezed her fingers in return, then let go, grimacing as he rose to his feet and moved over to sit down beside Scott on the bench. “Really not your fault at all, Dude. Okay?” Guilt tugged at him and he nudged Scott as best he could with his elbow.   
  
Scott glanced at Stiles and gave him half a smile. "Thanks. I just want us to all get the hell out of here and never come back." He pursed his lips, "What do you think our parents are doing? Do you think the gene donor is gone?"   
  
Stiles arched his eyebrows. “I have no idea, dude. You could always use your werewolf super hearing powers and try to find out,” he suggested.   
  
Scott hesitated, "I could," he said quietly, "But honestly, I really don't want to." He admitted. His father had to know by now what he was and honestly Scott didn't want to know how he felt about it. He cleared his throat, "Guys, we're in jail." He said with a huff changing the subject.   
  
Stiles winced as he realized exactly why Scott didn’t want to use his wolf powers to spy on their parents and wishing he’d have thought about that before suggesting it in the first place. But he’d have the _you are not a monster_ conversation with his friend later, when they weren’t here. “While it doesn’t surprise me that we’re all in here together, I _am_ actually surprised it didn’t happen before now.” His voice was light and he turned his head to look at Lydia, grinning.   
  
Lydia let out a very lady like snort. "Oh no, don't lump me in with you two delinquents. I'm the picture of perfection, the two of you however, well that's another story." She joked. "I'm just glad Ms. McCall and I got here when we did.”   
  
“Sorry. You are definitely lumped in with us delinquents now,” Stiles informed her matter-of-factly. “Perfect or not.”   
  
Lydia arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at Stiles, "Is that your way of telling me you don't think I'm perfect?" She asked.   
  
Scott grinned, "Finally some entertainment," he mumbled loud enough for Stiles to hear.   
  
Stiles kicked Scott’s leg and looked over at Lydia. “I’m saying despite your perfection, you’re also a delinquent,” he corrected her.   
  
Scott frowned, "You wound me." He said bending down to rub his leg that didn't actually hurt.   
  
Lydia rolled her eyes. "Don't be a wimp," she joked at Scott before turning her gaze on Stiles. "I blame the two of your for being a terrible influence on me then." She said matter-of-factly, but there was humor in her gaze.   
  
Stiles smirked at that. “We are a bad influence,” he agreed, looking sideways at Scott.   
  
Scott chuckled, "My mom said we were going to be a terrible influence on Lydia," he commented with a grin, "Co-ed sleep overs, getting thrown in jail, what's next?" He joked with a smile glad that they could still find humor in things when stuff was so crazy.   
  
Stiles groaned and laid his head back against the wall. “And you definitely just jinxed us so we’ll find out.”   
  
Scott grunted, "I'm an ass. I'm having an off day today guys." He shook his head. "Don't pay attention to me." He said, lifting his handcuffed hands over his head.   
  
Lydia watched them with amusement. "The two of you amuse me. I'm convinced there should be a psychological study on your friendship. The things they could psychoanalyze there," she joked. She was silent for a minute before speaking again. "At least we're all together." She said lightly.   
  
These days they were pretty much always together, the three of them. Except when Stiles was at home and Scott and Lydia went to school. He was going to have to remedy that soon because he really had no desire to repeat the latter half of his junior year.   
  
Lydia had just rested her head back against the bars when the sound of a door opening caught her attention. There were some muffled words and she glanced over at Scott who was grinning.   
  
"All the charges were dropped," he said, "They're coming to let us out now." No sooner had the words left Scott's mouth did they come.   
  
Ms. McCall, the sheriff and Deputy Parrish. The deputy smiled, "Hey kids, we'll have you guys out of those handcuffs and heading home in a couple of minutes."   
  
“Oh thank God.” Stiles slumped a little in relief and he tried to suppress the thought that _maybe we’re finally getting a break_ because the second he thought it, he knew _he’d_ been the one to actually jinx them.   
  
Melissa smiled softly at his words, looking at Michael briefly as Deputy Parrish unlocked the cell doors, beginning with Lydia’s. “Are you kids all right?”   
  
Scott nodded, “I could eat,” he commented casually, his expression tired. He didn’t know how they managed to get everything squared away with his-Rafael-, but he knew they’d probably explain when they all got home.   
  
Lydia stood when Deputy Parrish opened the cell. He smiled at her and she stepped forward. “Let me get these off you.” He said turning her hand.   
  
Lydia winced slightly and he frowned as he slipped the key inside, “These are on a little tight,” he said as he glanced up at her.   
  
“I’m okay,” she said not ruffled by the comment. They had been on tight, but she wasn’t about to complain. The idiots who locked them up had most likely done it on purpose, the same way they cuffed Stiles’ arms behind his back. They probably did the same to Scott, but Lydia knew he could break out of the handcuffs anytime he wanted.   
  
“There you go, why don’t you come on out now,” He said stepping aside so she could get out. Lydia rubbed her wrists as she stepped out and waited beside Stiles’ cell.   
  
Scott stood, “Get Stiles first, his shoulder is bothering him,” he said nudging his friend to get up.   
  
Stiles rose to his feet, too, glancing at Scott with a grateful expression, even if his words didn’t surprise him. He stepped toward the front of the cell where Deputy Parrish was unlocking the gate, then turned to face Scott so the guy could undo the cuffs. He winced involuntarily, biting down on his tongue as the man removed the restraints and he exhaled, rolling his shoulder and reaching up to rub at it gingerly.   
  
“Thanks,” he told Deputy Parrish.   
  
“Are you all right, Sweetheart?” Melissa asked worriedly, moving closer so she could inspect his shoulder.   
  
“Yeah. Yeah, totally fine,” he said quickly. “Just residual soreness.” From having it pulled out of the socket when Ethan beat the crap out of him.   
  
Michael walked over to them, “Maybe we should take you to get it checked out.” He suggested as he stepped over to the cell waiting for Scott.   
  
Deputy Parrish unlocked the handcuffs and Scott smiled, “Thanks,” he said before stepping out of the cell.   
  
Michael clasped his hand on Scott’s shoulder, “How are you holding up?” He asked concerned.   
  
Scott swallowed hard and nodded, “I’m okay,” he said quietly. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Physically he was fine, but what he’d done today, the way he’d lost control...it had been exactly what he was terrified of happening in the beginning. He thought he had everything under control, but apparently he’d been wrong.   
  
“It’s going to be okay,” Michael said to Scott his voice quiet as he pulled him into a side hug. “The interrogation room video has been taken care of and Rafael’s gone...for good this time.” He told him.   
  
Scott’s chest tightened and he nodded. “Good,” he said his tone tired. The sheriff released his shoulder and Scott watched him walk over to his mom. Scott glanced at Lydia and reached for her, tugging her gently towards him.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow as Scott turned her wrists over in his hands with a frown. “There’s going to be bruises.” He said quietly. “You’re alright though?” He asked his brows drawn together in concern. His father had his cops for hire, hurt his pack tonight and the rage that had filled Scott was something he’d never felt before. He had wanted to hurt him. He’d wanted to sink his claws into his skin and hear him scream and that scared the crap out of Scott.   
  
Lydia nodded, “I’m fine it’s just a little sore, I’m sure by morning it will be gone.” She hoped.   
  
Stiles watched all the interactions around him, his worried eyes flickering from Melissa to his dad, and then to Lydia before finally resting on Scott. He felt guilt, but this time it wasn’t his own and he swallowed hard, realizing it was the second time today he’d felt Scott’s emotions. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. This was definitely going to be an adjustment. But right now he wasn’t worried about adjusting.   
  
He was just worried for his best friend, who’d had his heart smashed for the second time in his life by his biological father. And Stiles hated Rafael for that.   
  
Scott nodded and sighed. He pressed a hand to Lydia’s lower back and guided her forward as his gaze searched for Stiles. He spotted his friend, “You want to go with Mom or your dad?” He asked. Scott had come to the station with the sheriff and Lydia and his mom had obviously driven there.   
  
Lydia paused gripping Scott’s arm gently, “Why don’t you and Stiles go with your mom. I can ride with the sheriff,” she suggested before catching Stiles’ gaze.   
  
Stiles met Scott’s eyes first, then Lydia’s, nodding slightly in agreement with her. “Sounds like a plan to me.”   
  
Michael glanced at Melissa and then at Lydia, “Sounds good, we can go pick up some Chinese on the way home for dinner while Melissa gets the boys home.” He said with a smile.   
  
Lydia glanced at the sheriff and gave him half a smile. “Okay.” She reached out to Stiles brushing her hand against his arm. “I’ll see you back at your house.” Lydia told him softly as Scott moved over to his mom.   
  
“See you soon,” he agreed quietly, closing his fingers over her hand for a brief moment before following Scott and Ms. McCall toward the exit of the sheriff’s department. He patted his hand against Scott’s back lightly. He had a feeling that they were all going to need meditation tonight.


	14. Chapter 14

_It was so cold. His skin was prickled with goosebumps, body shuddering as he climbed out of the ice water, teeth chattering. He wasn’t in the white room, though. Not like usual. No, this time the bathtub was sitting atop the Nemeton. And the Nemeton was glowing. Bright yellow, sparkly light pouring from every crack and crevice and he knew that the Nogitsune was coming for him.  
  
He backed away, stumbling and falling, hitting the ground hard enough that it knocked the air from his lungs. The figure forming in front of him was ghostly, but not transparent. More like a thick cloud of dark smoke. He tried to scramble backwards even as it wrapped itself around him, threatening to strangle him with its formless hands. He choked, sputtering and gasping and he felt it as it rushed into him, filling him with darkness again. With evil.   
  
Guess who’s back, it whispered against his mind. I came back for you, Stiiiiiiles.   
  
A tear ran down his cheek as it told him in detail all of the things that it had planned. The things it had planned for Lydia. For Scott and Melissa. For his _dad_.   
  
I’m always going to be here with you. Just when you think you’re rid of me, I’ll creep back in and take you over. I’m here to finish what we started together._   
  
Stiles whimpered in his sleep, kicking at his covers as they tangled against his legs, sweat breaking out on his forehead. He shuddered, hands clenching in the sheets.   
  
_He was standing in the McCall’s house now, driving a sword through Scott’s chest with a smirk across his face as blood dripped from Scott’s mouth. He gasped silently against the pain. Stiles screamed inside his head, but the louder he screamed, the more the Nogitsune twisted the sword in his best friend’s chest and oh god.  
  
Oh god.   
  
The sword was drenched in wolfsbane.   
  
“Stiles, what the hell are you doing?” Melissa’s frightened voice came from behind and the thing wearing his face turned, cruelly ripping the sword from Scott and making her watch as his body crashed onto the floor.   
  
He reached out, running his fingers across the blade and wiping off some of the blood. Then, he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked it, eyes dark and dangerous. “He tastes like death,” he whispered, stepping closer to Melissa next. “And you will, too.” _   
  
Stiles screamed, crashing hard onto the floor beside his bed, still tangled in the blankets and sheets as he tore at his own skin, tore at the covers, fingernails drawing blood on his arms like he’d grown claws of his own.   
  
Michael’s footsteps thundered up the stairs. He’d been in his study when he heard the crash. His heart beat heavily in his chest; fear clutching at his gut as he finally made it to the landing and ran down the rest of the hallway to his son’s bedroom. He burst through the doorway glancing around frantically for Stiles.   
  
He spotted his son flailing on the floor beside his bed. He moved forward grabbing at Stiles’ arms to keep him from scratching at his already bloody arms. “Stiles, wake up, it’s okay, Stiles wake up,” he said as he tried to calm his son down to no avail.   
  
Stiles was crying heavily, sobs wracking his body as he shook in his dad’s arms, visions of Melissa and Scott dead on the floor because of his hands, because of him, still vividly playing in his mind. “ _Mom,_ ” he whimpered. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”   
  
Confusion crossed Michael’s face when he heard Stiles call out for ‘Mom’. His son hadn’t had a nightmare about his mother in a long time. Michael rubbed his son’s arms as he sat on the floor beside him, “Stiles it’s okay,” he whispered, “It’s okay, you’re just having a nightmare, wake up...Wake up son.”   
  
Slowly his sobs began to fade away as he started waking up, tears still staining his cheeks. “Dad?” There was confusion in his voice as he looked up at his father, trying to figure out why they were on the floor.   
  
Michael nodded, “It’s me, I’m here.” he said quietly as he continued rubbing his hand down his son’s arm. “You’re okay now. Do you want to get up?” He asked quietly, his chest tight.   
  
It took him a moment to remember his dream and when he did, he gasped. “Oh god what did I do?” he whispered. “Did I hurt them? Are they here? Did I --” His voice broke.   
  
Michael frowned, “Who? Did you hurt who? No one’s here it’s just us Stiles. Scott and Lydia are at school and Melissa is at work.” He offered trying to get the look of fear off his son’s face. “Everyone is okay, I promise. What happened? Do you want to talk about it?” He asked softly.   
  
“Call her. Call her, please,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face as he started shaking again. “Check and make sure she’s not -- make sure I didn’t --” His stomach lurched and he quickly clambered to his feet, rushing for the bathroom and throwing up.   
  
It took Michael a minute to realize that when Stiles yelled out Mom he was talking about Melissa. He sat on the floor for a solid minute, his chest so tight he was actually having trouble breathing. Michael swallowed heavily, pushed himself up and stood. He heard his son getting sick in the bathroom and he winced as he slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Michael dialed the familiar number and brought the phone to his ear praying that Melissa had a minute to answer.   
  
Sure enough, she picked up almost immediately. “Michael? What is it? Is everything okay?” There was worry in her voice. She knew that unless something was wrong, he wasn’t going to call her while she was at work. Which meant that _something_ was wrong.   
  
Michael was silent for a minute, “It’s Stiles, he,” Michael’s words cut off as he ran a hand over his face. “He’s asking for you.” He whispered. It was both heartbreaking and heartwarming to hear his son call someone else Mom. He knew how much Stiles loved Melissa. For all intents and purposes she had been a Mom to him since Claudia passed.   
  
And at the same time Michael almost felt like they were betraying her by giving the title to someone else. Even though rationally he knew that wasn’t true.   
  
The pause on the line made her stomach tighten with dread, and even Michael’s words didn’t reassure her that Stiles was okay. “What happened? Is he okay?” she asked worriedly.   
  
Michael shook his head even though she couldn’t see it, his hands reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “He had a nightmare, he wants to talk to you.” He said before moving out of the bedroom and towards the bathroom. “Stiles, I have Melissa on the phone son...Do you want to talk to her?” He called out trying to coax his son out of the bathroom.   
  
Melissa moved away from the desk, signaling to Sally that she was taking a short break and she headed down the hall toward the nurse’s lounge, grateful to find it empty as she waited for Stiles to come to the phone.   
  
Stiles’ skin was pale and clammy as he made his way out of the bathroom, eyes unfocused as he reached for the phone, still feeling nauseated. “Melissa?” His voice cracked.   
  
Her heart clenched when she heard his voice crack, “I’m here sweetie,” she said as she sat in one of the chairs. “What happened? Do you want to tell me about it?” She asked keeping her voice low and soothing. She was worried for him. He didn’t sound good and she desperately wanted to be back at the house with him instead of so far away.   
  
Tears flooded his eyes at the sound of her voice and he looked down at his hands, taking the time to count his fingers just in case. He shut his eyes tightly when he made it to ten. “I just -- I needed to make sure you were okay. You’re okay, right?” He could feel his dad’s worried gaze on him.   
  
“I’m okay,” Melissa said quietly. She was silent for a minute. “Honey, how about I come home?” She responded softly, “I can pick up some of that chicken soup you like and we can sit and talk...or not talk if you don’t want to,” she rushed on not wanting him to think she was going to pry him for information.   
  
“No, you shouldn’t -- I mean it’s okay, I don’t -- you’re working and I don’t want you to get in trouble. Dad’s here, I just -- I needed to make sure that I didn’t...that you were really okay.” He swallowed against the lump in his throat.   
  
Melissa frowned, “Are you sure?” She asked keeping her tone light, “I’ve got sick days and I wouldn’t mind taking one,” she admitted. “I can be there if you need me Stiles, I will always be here when you need me.”   
  
He rubbed a hand over his face wearily. “I know. I know. But you might need them or something. I’ll be okay.” It was dawning on him now that he needed to send Lydia and Scott a text to let them know he was okay, that he’d just had a bad dream, and they didn’t need to worry about him.   
  
Melissa pursed her lips. “As long as you’re sure,” she said keeping her voice calm. “I’ll be back early today. I should be back by four, four-thirty the latest.” Melissa told him. “Do you want me to bring anything home for you?”   
  
Stiles wiped a tear off his cheek, the vivid image of her and Scott dead in a pool of blood still too fresh for him to really be okay. He knew that it would have happened eventually. If they hadn’t gotten the Nogitsune out of him when they had, he would’ve killed them both. “No, just...just be careful,” he whispered before holding the phone back out to his dad. He moved back into his bedroom and picked his phone up off the nightstand, quickly shooting texts to his friends to let them know he was okay.   
  
Michael watched his son go back into his room before clearing his throat and bringing the phone to his ear. “It’s me again,” he said his voice gruff.   
  
She was quiet for a moment. “You both sound like you could use some company,” she said quietly.   
  
“We probably could, but I don’t want you to have to leave work, we can wait...we’ll be okay.” Michael said even though he wasn’t entirely sure if Stiles would ever be okay.   
  
“I have a large amount of sick time accumulated,” she told him gently. “But I don’t want to overstep any boundaries, either.”   
  
Michael was silent for a minute, “He woke up crying for his mom,” he said quietly, “He woke up asking for you.” He closed his eyes. “You couldn’t overstep if you tried. Stiles needs us both…” Michael swallowed hard, “If you don’t mind...I mean,” he paused, “You can absolutely come home if you want.”   
  
Melissa’s heart squeezed painfully tight at Michael’s admission and for a moment she didn’t know how to respond. And then she knew exactly how to respond. “I’ll be home soon.”   
  
Michael nodded again even though she couldn’t see it, “We’ll be here.” He said, “See you soon.” He told her before disconnecting the call and leaning back against the wall wondering if this would ever truly be over.   


______

  
  
Melissa sat on Stiles’ bed her gaze drawn to the teenager beside her. She ran her hand through his hair as she watched him shift slightly. She had gotten back to the Stilinski household close to a half hour ago. Stiles had surprisingly been asleep when she got there and Melissa decided to sit upstairs with him until he woke up again.   
  
She didn’t like the idea of him waking up alone again. Melissa brushed his hair off his forehead before leaning back and letting out a short sigh. She hated that he was going through this and there wasn’t much that she could do. She felt him stir beside her and she tilted her head and glanced down at him waiting to see if he was waking up or just shifting in his sleep   
  
He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to fall back to sleep. He hadn’t been trying. He’d been sitting at his desk, playing on his computer and his eyes had gotten increasingly heavier until he’d just given up and crawled back into bed even if he was terrified of sleeping. This time he hadn’t dreamt. Or if he had, he didn’t remember the dreams. He felt a soothing presence beside him, brushing fingers through his hair and he sighed softly, opening his eyes slowly.   
  
He blinked a few times and looked up to see Melissa McCall curled up there right beside him, arm around his shoulders. And now he understood why he hadn’t had bad dreams. “Oh,” he whispered. “Hey.”   
  
Melissa smiled, “Hey,” she said lightly, “I was wondering when you were going to wake up sleepy head,” she teased gently. “How are you feeling?” She asked softly giving him a look once again.   
  
Stiles was silent for a moment and then he let his eyes shut, chewing his lower lip. “I dreamt that --” He hesitated, swallowing heavily. “I hurt you and Scott. Not just now, but before. When my dad called you.” There was shame in his voice. Guilt.   
  
Melissa reached out and rubbed Stiles’ back. “It was just a dream.” She told him softly. “I’m okay, Scott’s okay, we’re all okay I promise.” She said softly. Melissa leaned in pressing a kiss to the side of Stiles head.   
  
He wanted to tell her that she wouldn’t have been because wasn’t that something people should know? When you had something inside of you that wanted them really, really dead and you didn’t tell them that said thing had wanted them very, very dead? Wasn’t not saying anything kind of like lying and giving them the impression that you were a safe person to be around when you were definitely _not_ a safe person to be around?   
  
This time they were okay. This time he hadn’t killed either of them. He was so tired. He rested his head against her shoulder, chewing on his thumbnail. All of his nails were chewed down to the quick by now.   
  
Melissa could see something in his face that made her frown. “What is it honey? What’s wrong? Talk to me.” She urged not liking how anxious and scared he looked.   
  
“It wanted to hurt you guys,” he whispered, voice barely audible. God, did she even know that he’d tried to kill her son? That he could have succeeded? He squeezed his eyes shut tightly.   
  
Melissa tightened her arm around Stiles. “Sweetie, it was a nightmare. I know this is hard, but you need to realize that you, Stiles Stilinski, would never hurt us. The Nogitsune is dead. Lydia killed it. You’re going to be okay, it’s just going to take time. And nightmares,” she paused, “They’re bound to happen even though I wish they wouldn’t. But I need you to stay grounded and remember he can’t hurt you or us anymore.” She told him softly.   
  
He’d rather die himself than ever hurt any of them. He swallowed hard again, nodding against her shoulder and exhaling a shaky breath. “It just...it felt really real.”   
  
“I know,” she whispered, “But it’s not. We’re real and we’re okay and that _thing_...well it’s never going to hurt anyone again least of all us. I promise. You trust me don’t you?” Melissa asked as she brushed some of Stiles’ hair from his eyes.   
  
His expression was pained when he looked at her. “Yeah of course.” It wasn’t trusting her or Scott or any of the others that was the problem. It was trusting himself he wasn’t sure he could handle anymore.   
  
Melissa could almost read what he was thinking by the expression on his face. “Well then trust that if I thought anyone was in any danger, I would do something about it. But you’re not dangerous Stiles; I just wish you could see that.” Melissa said softly.   
  
Wordlessly, he wrapped his arm around her, burying his face into her shoulder and nodding slightly. Maybe he’d see it one day. That day just wasn’t today. Probably not tomorrow either. Everything was still too fresh in his mind. Too raw and right there at the surface of his mind. He just hoped someday he’d learn to trust himself again.   


______

  
  
Michael set the cup of coffee down in front of Melissa before sitting down across from her. Despite the fact that it was just after two in the afternoon, Michael was pretty sure they both needed the caffeine. Stiles was out getting some air, the first time in a long time he’d left the house, and Michael figured now was as good a time as any to figure out how they were going to go forward with things.   
  
“Thanks for leaving early today,” he said sincerely as he brought the cup of coffee to his lips and took a healthy sip.   
  
“Not a problem,” she assured him with a soft smile, taking a drink of her own. She watched him for a moment. Truthfully she was almost as concerned about him and how he was dealing with things as she was about all of the kids that were caught up in this supernatural nightmare. “How are you doing?”   
  
Michael ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’m hanging in there,” he said as he rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m worried,” he admitted.   
  
“Of course you are,” she said softly.   
  
Michael glanced up and reached out resting a hand on top of hers. "How are _you_ doing? I know this has been pretty crazy and you and Scott have uprooted a lot to be here constantly...I really appreciate everything you've been doing.”   
  
“I’m worried, too,” Melissa admitted, meeting his eyes. “About you and Stiles, and Scott and Lydia. I’m also contemplating writing a handbook for other parents of children with supernatural inclinations.”   
  
Michael couldn't help the deep chuckle that left his throat. He squeezed her hand gently. "At least you haven't lost your sense of humor," he commented. "I'm worried about Scott too," he admitted, "Lydia also. She seems surprisingly well adjusted though." He admitted.   
  
Melissa nodded. “She’s well-adjusted but she’s also very starved for parental attention,” she said quietly. A soft sigh escaped her and she took another sip of coffee.   
  
Michael pursed his lips. "She's different than I expected," he said curling his hand around the coffee, "But the three of them," he paused, "They help each other. I honestly don't understand it, but I do know Stiles wouldn't be able to get through this without Scott and Lydia." He told her with a sigh. "I just wish I could make the process easier for him...for Scott too. He’s so worried about being a leader and he's just a kid."   
  
Melissa considered his words. Lydia really wasn’t what she’d expected, either. “You know, I think that your son might have the gift of seeing through to who a person really is. He’s loved her for years, long before she was ever the way she is now.” She looked into her coffee mug for a moment. “And Stiles...he’s strong. He’s always been strong.” But she also knew that in a lot of ways, Michael’s son was very much like a little boy, lost and hurting as he’d been since he’d lost his mother.   
  
“I wish those things, too. It isn’t easy being the parents of children in a pack of werewolves. I almost feel like we should form a support group.”   
  
Michael nodded agreeing with her about Stiles before grinning, "Weekly meetings for you, me, and Argent?" He asked with a slight chuckle. "It must be even weirder for him since technically Allison is a hunter...and yet she's part of Scott's pack," Michael paused, "She is right? Everyone’s working things out?" He asked.   
  
She smiled, nodding. “Yes, she is. And from what I’m understanding, they’re all working things out slowly. I think it’ll be easier for everyone once Stiles is more back on track,” she admitted, pausing. “Scott may be the alpha, but Stiles seems to be pretty key in holding everyone together.” It didn’t surprise her, really.   
  
Michael nodded. "I've noticed people being a bit more erratic in their decision making when he's not around." He was silent for a minute. "He's the heart." Michael said quietly. He brought his coffee to his lips and took a sip before glancing up at Melissa. "So, I know we haven't talked about it, but I realize at some point you and Scott probably have to head back home," he said scratching the back of his head.   
  
Melissa was silent for a few seconds. “I don’t think either of us is in a rush,” she said quietly. “Aside from worrying about Isaac. I know he’s in good hands with the Argent’s, though.”   
  
Michael nodded. He hesitated for a second before speaking. "You and Scott are welcome to stay as long as you'd like. It's nice having a full house." He added. Michael was silent for a minute. "Melissa, I was wondering maybe one night we could-" his words were cut off by a sharp knock on the door. He glanced over and frowned. "I wonder who that is," he said as he pushed away from the table sending Melissa an apologetic look before heading to the door.   
  
Her heart had skipped a beat when he’d started his question because she had a question in mind that she’d been hoping he was going to ask for awhile now. She looked toward the door when the knock sounded, too, smiling faintly.   
  
Allison Argent stood on the doorstep, book bag slung over one shoulder as she waited, looking uncharacteristically nervous. She wasn’t supposed to look or feel nervous. She was an _Argent._ But she was also a teenage girl. She smiled at Sheriff Stilinski when he appeared. “Hi, Sheriff.”   
  
Surprise crossed Michael's face, but he smiled at the youngest Argent. "Hi Allison," he opened the door wider for her, "What brings you buy?" He asked his tone friendly.   
  
“I actually meant to come by sooner, but things kept coming up,” she explained. “My dad asked me to bring this by for Stiles.” She hesitated and held up the cell phone in her hand.   
  
Michael glanced down at the phone. "Huh, thanks. Stiles said he couldn't find it." He explained with a smile mentioning for her to come inside. "We just got him a new one," he told her.   
  
Allison stepped inside the house as he took the phone from her, glancing over and seeing Scott’s mom sitting on the sofa comfortably. “Hi, Ms. McCall,” she said almost shyly, ducking her head a little.   
  
Melissa smiled, "Hi Allison," she tilted her head to the side, "How are you sweetheart?"   
  
“I’m good,” she assured her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “How’s Stiles? I saw Scott at school earlier.” Her voice dropped a little. “He said Stiles had a rough day yesterday.” And that Lydia had had some kind of bad dream last night, but she didn’t mention that.   
  
Melissa glanced at Michael as he moved over to the couch clutching Stiles' phone. He nodded. "Stiles is doing better than he was, but yesterday was a bit of a setback," he admitted sending the teenager a tired smile. "He's going to be sorry he missed you." Michael commented.   
  
There was warm concern in her eyes as she hesitantly moved to sit down in one of the arm chairs near the sofa. “Oh, he’s out?” She couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at that.   
  
Michael and Melissa both nodded before he spoke. "He left not long ago. Said he needed to clear his head." He told her. "Sorry kiddo, but I doubt he'll be long. You can wait here for him if you want. Lydia and Scott should probably be home soon too," he told her as he lifted his arm over the back of the couch behind Melissa.   
  
It was such a simple action, really, that if Allison had been a little less perceptive, she probably wouldn’t have noticed how Scott’s mom leaned toward Stiles’ dad just a little. She had to suppress a smile because she had a feeling they didn’t even realize how very much couple-like they appeared sitting together like that. “I don’t mind waiting if it’s really okay. I mean if you guys are busy, I can just go sit in my car,” she offered.   
  
Melissa made of face, "Of course not." She stood, "How about a brownie and some milk while you wait?" She'd made them for Stiles, but there was enough to go around. She was watching Allison for a response and missed the soft expression on Michael's face as he watched her.   
  
Allison’s face lit up. “Ooh, brownies.”   
  
Melissa chuckled and motioned for Allison to follow her into the room sending a small smile in Michael's direction before walking out of the room.   
  
Moments later, Scott opened the door to the Stilinski household, glancing at back at Lydia. “No way is that even vaguely possible,” he said with a laugh. “There isn’t a score higher than an A. Right? Not really.”   
  
Lydia shrugged, “An A+,” she suggested as she walked into the house behind Scott carrying her books in her arms. “But I guess it doesn’t really matter...and A is an A,” she said scrunching her nose. “Though if there was a grade higher, obviously I’d be getting it.” She told him matter-of-factly as she placed her books down on the table not even spotting Allison or Ms. McCall right away. Lydia plopped down in one of the chairs glancing back over at Scott.   
  
“Hey guys,” Allison greeted with an amused smile as she overheard their conversation. “And she’s right; an A+ is higher than an A.”   
  
Melissa shook her head, eying her son. “And Scott would know that if he studied once in awhile.” Her voice was only partially scolding.   
  
Scott pouted, “I do study,” he defended himself while dropping his backpack to the floor.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow. “I told you to study with me and Stiles the other night and you refused.” She pointed out poking lightly at her book.   
  
Scott rolled his eyes up, “That’s because you’re like a study Nazi. You’re crazy with your notes and highlighters and numerical devices.”   
  
“Pneumonic,” Lydia corrected, “And Stiles doesn’t seem to think I’m too nazi-ish,” she said making quotation marks with her fingers, “in my study approaches.”   
  
Scott snorted, “I wonder why.”   
  
Allison smirked at the two of them. “I doubt that Stiles finds you too nazi-ish in any way,” she teased.   
  
Melissa shook her head, cutting up the pan of brownies she’d made earlier. “Scott, can you pour three glasses of milk, please?” she requested.   
  
Scott glanced over at his mom and nodded, “Sure,” he responded as he walked over to the refrigerator.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow at Allison and then paused straightening up. “Where is Stiles?” she asked her brows furrowing. “He isn’t here, why isn’t he here?” She inquired glancing over at Melissa. Lydia couldn’t remember the last time Stiles left the house alone.   
  
“He said he wanted to go for a drive and try to clear his head,” Melissa told her. Truthfully she’d felt a little anxious since he’d left, but she was trying to remind herself that Stiles was a seventeen year old boy and he probably was starting to feel a little suffocated from staying inside the house so much.   
  
Lydia opened her mouth, but shut it almost immediately. She was not going to freak out just because Stiles went for a drive. She would not be one of those girls who called and text him because she didn’t know where he was. It wasn’t a big deal. He was most likely fine. And yet she couldn’t help the anxiety that built inside of her.   
  
Scott glanced at Lydia, “Relax,” he said calmly before glancing at his Mom. He scratched the back of his neck, “Has he been gone long?” He asked calmly.   
  
“About an hour,” she told them, glancing between them with a concerned frown. “I’m sure Stiles is just feeling the effects of a very common illness called _Cabin Fever._ ” Her voice was quiet and reassuring. “He’s been staying in this house without leaving for nearly two months, a couple of outings aside.” She put a hand on Lydia’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze before placing three brownies on plates and setting the plates around the table.   
  
Allison looked at her best friend, and then at Scott, even her eyes filled with concern.   
  
Scott brought two glasses over to the table and then went back for the third. He glanced up at his Mom and sent her half a smile, “I’m sure you’re right.” He said worried nonetheless. Why wouldn’t Stiles tell him he was heading out, his friend had to know they would have been worried and that’s the part that worried Scott.   
  
Lydia glanced at the brownies and then at Melissa and Allison. “I think I’m going to pass on the brownie. I’m a little tired. It was a long day,” and she hadn’t slept well last night at all. “I think I’m going to go rest for a little while.” She said standing up.   
  
Scott hesitated near the table, “Want me to come?” He offered.   
  
Lydia smiled and shook her head, “I’m fine. Eat your brownie, but do not eat mine or we’ll have problems,” she joked before glancing at Melissa and Allison with a small smile and heading out of the kitchen towards the stairs.   
  
Scott watched her go with a frown. He sighed and then sat at the table. “I _am_ going to eat her brownie.” He stated.   
  
“No, you are _not_ ,” Melissa scolded, slapping his hand lightly as he reached for the extra brownie, moving it away from him. “If you eat too much you’ll spoil your dinner anyway.” She glanced toward where Lydia had vanished.   
  
"She lied to me, she doesn't deserve her brownie, plus there's a whole tray," he pointed to the tray on the counter before glancing at his mom. "Don't you know by now I'm _ _always__ hungry?" He said with a smile noticing how his moms 'gaze was focused on the hallway. "She didn't sleep well last night," he commented, "She'll be fine." Scott assured his Mom knowing she was worried.   
  
Melissa frowned at that. “She didn’t? She didn’t say anything this morning before school.”   
  
Allison glanced toward the stairs. “Is it okay if I just -- go up and check on her?”   
  
Scott glanced between his Mom and Allison addressing one question at a time. "Lydia wouldn't have said anything, that's not who she is." He said quietly before glancing at Allison. "It couldn't hurt, maybe she's just sick of me," he joked knowing that wasn't the case. It was Peter. Lydia had, had a particularly violent nightmare about the oldest Hale last night. Neither he nor Stiles had any idea what brought it on.   
  
“Not even possible,” Allison told him, patting her hand lightly before rising to her feet. She paused, picking up her plate and then Lydia’s too, giving Scott a knowing look before heading up the stairs and leaving him alone with his mother.   
  
Scott glanced at his Mom and cocked his head to the side. "You okay?" He asked lightly. His Mom had been dealing with a lot lately and she'd been a real trooper about all of it. Scott was lucky to have her.   
  
“I’m fine,” she assured her son, moving to sit down across from her son at the table. “How was school?”   
  
Scott nodded, "It was good. I got a B+ on my chemistry test," he told her while taking a bit of his brownie.   
  
Melissa smiled at that. “Good job,” she said sincerely.   
  
Scott grinned around his brownie, "Thanks mom," he said brightly, "And thanks for being so awesome." He said around a mouthful of brownie.   
  
She made a face. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, Scott,” she said with a sigh.   
  
Scott nodded and then sighed as he shoved more of the brownie into his mouth.   
  
Melissa shook her head fondly and looked at him across the table. “My son the alpha werewolf has no table manners.”   
  
Scott made a face and finished his brownie. He took a long sip of milk and then wiped his hands on a napkin. He sat there silently for a minute debating on bringing up something that had been bothering him for a couple of days. Scott shifted forward and caught his Mother’s gaze. “Can I ask you something?” He said his tone soft, voice quiet.   
  
She cocked her head, leaning forward, as well. “Of course, Sweetheart. What is it?” There was a hint of worry in her tone.   
  
Scott hesitated, “Do you,” he paused trying to figure out how he wanted to phrase his question, “Does it bother you that I am what I am?” He asked ducking his head as he scratched the back of his neck. “I mean...Do you think I’m I dunno,” his voice trailed off and he shrugged.   
  
“Oh, Scott.” She rose to her feet and moved around the table so she was standing beside her chair. She reached out and cupped his face in her hands, making him look up at her. “I don’t care if you’re an alpha or if you’re a beta or you’re a magical fairy. You’re my son and I love you.”   
  
Scott chuckled despite the moisture in his eyes. He swallowed hard and nodded, “I love you too, Mom.” He leaned into her touch for a minute taking comfort in it before catching her gaze again. “What about the sheriff? I don’t scare him or anything right, he doesn’t think that I’m a...monster does he?” He asked his voice quiet.   
  
Her eyes were sad and she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Of course not. If he thought you were a monster, neither of us would be here in this house right now,” she said sincerely. “Sometimes we’re both afraid for you. For all of you.” Her voice was quiet, but full of barely held back emotion.   
  
Scott nodded, “I know you guys worry. I try to make sure we’re all okay. Everyone looks to me for answers and sometimes...I just don’t have them.” He said as he leaned back in his seat. “But we’re all really strong and as long as we stick together and look out for each other we’ll be okay.” He said with half a smile.   
  
“And you’re not always going to have the answers, Scott,” she said gently. “Alpha or not, you’re still only seventeen.” She smoothed some hair back off his forehead. “Not having the answers is part of being a teenager. You’ll figure it out as you get older.”   
  
Scott nodded knowing she was right. “I know. And our pack is strong. We’ve got one of the best hunters in our pack. Allison can hit anything from super far away. And Derek, he protects all of us. He’d risk his life for all of us. And Lydia...her abilities are growing fast and even though I don’t think she has a handle on them all just yet, she’s learning. Stiles is smart and I’m slowly learning how to deal with all this alpha crap,” he said with a short laugh. “Plus we’ve got Isaac and maybe even Derek’s sister Cora...we’ll see. She and Lydia might kill each other first though, so I don’t know.” Scott joked.   
  
Melissa listened as he talked about the pack. None of the things he said was a surprise to her, really. After the last several months, she’d gotten to know most of the pack members fairly well, aside from Cora. And it was on her list of things to do. “And Michael and I may not officially be part of your pack, but we’re always here when you need us. Any of you.”   
  
Scott grinned, “That’s because you guys are the best parents ever,” he said quietly. Scott bit the inside of his cheek, “Mom, I really like being here...I like being a family.” He told her as he crumpled his napkin up.   
  
Melissa’s expression softened at that and she was quiet for a moment, a small smile touching her face. “I know,” she admitted, squeezing his shoulder.   
  
Scott nodded. “I should start my homework.” He said glancing around the kitchen. “Later on in the week Derek and I are gonna go by Lydia’s and help her move her stuff over here...so it’s probably going to be a little busy here. Isaac will most likely come to and maybe Cora to keep Stiles company.” He shrugged, “We’ll see. I just wanted to give you a heads up.” He smiled and stood.   
  
Melissa nodded. “Probably a good idea,” she agreed, knowing that all of the kids had fallen behind in their schoolwork and studying lately. “I’ll let Michael know. I’m sure it’s fine.” She wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. “I’m going to start dinner.”   
  
Scott leaned into the head and pressed a quick kiss to his Mom’s cheek before shifting out of her arms and pulling his bag up from the floor. “Best Mom ever award,” he said with a grin as he headed for the hallway, glad that he’d finally gotten that off his chest.   
  
She watched him go with a small smile on her face, shaking her head. Her son the alpha.   


______

  
  
He’d spent almost an hour simply driving around before deciding on a course of action. He briefly considered going to Deaton’s clinic to get wolfsbane before continuing on his newfound mission, but he decided not to be quite that aggressive. Not unless he had to be. He was pretty sure he could get his point across in another way.   
  
Stiles’ grip on the steering wheel of his jeep tightened just a fraction as he drove across town and parked in the parking lot. He glanced momentarily at the bats in the backseat, but he decided against that, as well.   
  
He made his way inside the apartment building, taking the steps two at a time until he reached the third floor apartment and knocked loudly on the wooden door, waiting.   
  
Peter glanced up from the papers scattered across his dining room table, his head angling in the direction of the door. He pursed his lips at the sound of a rapidly beating heart, “What do we have here,” he murmured. He pushed the papers beneath a folder and turned walking across the room irritated at being disturbed. Peter was not having a good day.   
  
His attempt to get into his little banshee’s head was unsuccessful. The little redhaired minx had fought him tooth and nail until she’d woken herself up from her dream. So much for his druid dream mix. He was going to need something stronger.   
  
Peter reached the door and pulled it open mildly surprised to see Stiles on the other end of it. He grinned brightly and leaned against the door, “Well if it isn’t Beacon Hills’ newest villain come to darken my doorstep. What can I do for you, Stiles?”   
  
Stiles suddenly wished he had brought his baseball bat with him because between the man’s cocky, knowing smile, and his own rapidly growing anger, he found himself wanting to drive it into the man’s skull. The thought was dark, violent. Familiar.   
  
He stepped inside the older werewolf’s apartment without waiting for an invitation, glancing around before turning to face him. “I think it’s time the two of us had a chat,” he said, voice more controlled than it had been in a long time.   
  
Peter arched an eyebrow as he closed the door. “Is it this new found sense of darkness and destruction that gives you the balls to walk into my home uninvited?” He inquired as he walked to the living room and then turned so he was facing Stiles hands crossing lazily over his chest. “Because I’ve got to say I certainly like this version better than the stumbling sidekick bit.” He commented.   
  
Somehow that didn’t surprise Stiles in the least. “You always have enjoyed darkness and destruction, haven’t you, Peter?” he remarked, cocking an eyebrow back at him, surprised to realize he didn’t feel the least bit afraid of the man. Once upon a time, Peter Hale had terrified him. Then again, so had Derek. Things changed.   
  
He’d changed. “I know what you did.” His voice was casual now, and he gave Peter the same knowing look he’d given Scott’s dad all those weeks ago at the sheriff’s station. Dark. Intense. Dangerous.   
  
Peter studied Stiles for a minute noticing the subtle changes in the boy in front of him. He cocked his head to the side and dropped his arms from his chest. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything devious in days. Sad really. I’m actually on a mission of sorts lately therefore my time at the moment is too precious to waste on a group of teenagers.” He said with a smirk, “Even big bad ones.” He mocked.   
  
Stiles took a step toward him. “You mean other than trying to get back into Lydia’s head last night?” he asked, cocking his head and staring hard at the man in front of him. “You can try and deny it all you want, but your particular presence has left a very distinct...impression in her mind. And I know you were in her head last night.” He’d felt Peter’s presence himself in his half-conscious state and he’d spent most of the day wondering how much weirder their lives were going to get. He was pretty sure that Lydia had chalked it up as a nightmare, but Stiles knew better. He didn’t even know how exactly he knew, but he felt it on an instinctual, primal level.   
  
Surprise flashed in Peter’s eyes for the briefest of seconds before he took a step towards Stiles studying him closer this time. He angled his head to the side. “You’re different.” He stated. “Something inside you has changed,” Peter commented. A flicker of curiosity caught his gaze as he looked at Stiles.   
  
“Tell me Rambo, can you feel everything my little Banshee feels?” He asked taking a step closer, “More importantly how much of you can she feel?” He inquired a slight gleam in his dark eyes.   
  
“A lot inside me has changed. Tends to happen when you have a homicidal demon riding your body for months,” he said, not backing away even as Peter approached him. “And she’s not your banshee. Hate to break it to you, but you’re not an alpha anymore. You may have been the spark that ignited her abilities, but that’s all it was.” His voice was cold. “And if you try to get into her mind again, you’re gonna regret it,” Stiles warned.   
  
Peter pursed his lips and leaned into Stiles, “Someone’s feeling brave,” he said his voice hard, “Lydia will always be my Banshee.” He stated matter-of-factly. “I’ll always have a connection to her because of that night on the lacrosse field. It’s how I was able to make her bring me back to life,” he pointed out.   
  
“And it’s how I got into her head last night.” He said no longer denying it. Peter smirked, “She came here you know,” he tossed out, “now I see she was trying to help you.” He commented. “But it’s clear she hasn’t taken my advice, lucky for me. If she had it would be a lot harder to get into her head.” He said while shifting back.   
  
“I know having blood on your hands makes you feel powerful Stiles, but you do not want to cross me. You and I have a pretty easy existence by mutually avoiding one another. Let’s keep it that way shall we?” He asked pleasantly.   
  
“Lydia has something I want and make no doubt about it; she’s going to give it to me. And no one, not my nephew and not you, are going to stop me from getting it.” He said his voice hard.   
  
“You’re making an awful lot of assumptions there, Peter,” Stiles said with a faint smirk, not intimidated. “First with your thought that you’ll always have a connection to her. Your connection with Lydia is based on something twisted and dark. Doesn’t mean it’s permanent.” His eyes were dark as he looked at him with disdain.   
  
“And yeah, you got in, but you also didn’t find what you were looking for did you?” He took a step closer, barely a few inches of space between them now. “Aren’t you wondering why that is if your connection to Lydia is so strong?” He arched an eyebrow, feeling something stirring within him. Something he’d felt the tug of before. Darkness? Power? He wasn’t entirely sure. But he was going to use what he had. “And for the record, Lydia and I don’t keep secrets from each other, so yes, I’m aware she came to see you with Derek for information about her banshee abilities.” He reveled in the look of surprise on Peter’s face. He’d really thought Lydia hadn’t said anything about it.   
  
“This is the only warning you’re getting, Peter. There won’t be a second chance. You come after Lydia in any way -- physically, mentally, emotionally -- I’m going to know. And then I’ll come after you. I’ll come after with you with everything I have -- with every ounce of darkness that’s still in me, and there’s a lot more there than you’d think. I’ll come after you, Peter, and I’ll end you.” There was no hint of kidding in his tone. “And there won’t be enough of you left for all the king’s horses and all the king’s men to put you back together again. So you might want to think long and hard before you come after Lydia or anyone else I care about. Scott might not have it in him to kill. But I didn’t hesitate the first time around.” He smirked, enjoying the flicker of uncertainty over the other man’s face. “And this time, I’d even enjoy it.” He stared hard at Peter, his heartbeat calm and steady in his chest.   
  
Peter swallowed hard, but he didn’t back down. “Oh Stiles, you’ve merely had a taste at being a murderous asshole,” His gaze hardened, “But I wrote the book.” He snapped, “And you keep boasting about that connection of yours. If the two of you don’t connect the right way soon, all of those little emotions flowing through her are going to drive her crazy. You know she thinks she’s finally mastering them...poor thing. She hasn’t even begun to scratch the surface,” he whispered. “I’ll get what I want eventually no matter who I have to go through to get it.”   
  
A tiny, dark smile stretched across Stiles’ mouth and he leaned in, close to Peter’s ear. “Then bring it on,” he whispered, embracing the feeling inside of him for the first time. He walked slowly toward the door, not in a rush because he wasn’t afraid. Peter should be the one afraid of him.   
  
Because he knew himself well enough to know he wouldn’t hesitate to take him out if he had to, by any means necessary. Not if hesitating meant Lydia or Scott or anyone he cared about was in danger. “Guess I’ll be seeing you again soon,” he said casually as he strolled out the door.


	15. Chapter 15

Scott sat at the kitchen table; textbooks open in front of him as he leaned forward reading the most recent chapter. He was having trouble focusing. His mom was on a late shift at the hospital, the sheriff was in his office working, Allison had gone home, and Lydia was trying to sleep. But Scott could hear that she wasn’t.   
  
Her heartbeat kept fluctuating between calm rapid beating and a frantic pounding in her chest, but Scott wasn’t sure why. And if that wasn’t enough he was getting some intensely feeling vibes from Stiles. He didn’t know where his friend was, but he was certain he wasn’t out for a drive to clear his head.   
  
It almost felt like that flight or fight response people got before something big happened, except minus the flight response. Scott shook his head refusing the urge to check on Stiles and try to go find him. He didn’t want his friend to think he didn’t trust him. Scott sighed and refocused his gaze on his homework, trying to block out Lydia’s distress from upstairs and the odd feelings moving through Stiles.   
  
A half an hour later found Stiles walking into the house quietly. He had a suspicion that Lydia was sleeping, or nearly asleep, at the very least. He didn’t want to risk waking her up. He spotted Scott sitting at the kitchen table and he paused, then slowly walked toward him. “Hey.” His voice was quiet.   
  
Scott glanced up and sat back in his seat watching his friend closely. “Hey,” he said keeping his tone light. “Were you able to clear your head?” He asked cocking his head to the side.   
  
“In a manner of speaking.” He drew in a breath and sat down across from Scott. “I just came from a visit with Peter Hale.”   
  
Scott sat up straight, “You did what?” He asked lowering his voice, “Why in the world would you go over there without me?” He asked baffled. Scott was starting to think everyone in his pack had a damn death wish.   
  
Guilt swept over him at the alarm in Scott’s voice. “It was fine,” he assured him. “I’m completely fine. He didn’t lay a finger on me.”   
  
Scott’s brows lifted. “Well something happened.” He said matter-of-factly, “I _felt_ it.” He told his friend. “Are you going to tell me?” He asked as he leaned forward, “What’s going on?” He asked.   
  
“Did you feel anything last night? Anything...strange?” he asked tentatively. “When Lydia was having her nightmare, I mean.” He studied Scott carefully, watching for any signs that his best friend knew what he was talking about.   
  
Scott thought back to last night trying to remember if he felt anything out of the ordinary. But nothing came to mind. He shook his head, “No...why? Stiles what’s going on? Are you okay?” he asked worried not liking being in the dark.   
  
“I felt something,” he said quietly, gazing intently at Scott. “In Lydia’s head. I don’t really know how to explain it. But it was Peter. He was looking for something.”   
  
Scott let out a breath, “Peter was in her head? Are you sure?” He asked not sure how his friend would even know that. Scott could feel certain things from Lydia, but sensing someone else’s presence in her head...Scott hadn’t even know that was possible.   
  
“Yeah. Positive. I can’t explain how I felt it, but I did. And he admitted it when I confronted him about it.” He looked down at his hands. “I think he’s going to pose a problem.” Hell, he’d as much as admitted that, too.   
  
Scott was quiet for a minute. “Something happened while you weren’t here Stiles...I felt,” he paused trying to figure out how to describe it, “Darkness.” He said quietly. “Not Nogitsune darkness,” he added quickly, “Something different...what brought it out? What does Peter want?” He asked quietly even though he knew no one could hear them.   
  
Stiles’ chest tightened at Scott’s words. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I felt it, too.” He couldn’t look at Scott when he said those words. “And I brought it out.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Because Peter wants something from Lydia. I don’t know what it is, but he’s determined he’s going to get it.” His jaw tightened. “We had...words,” he said vaguely.   
  
Scott sat back and rolled his neck. “He’s not going to touch Lydia, Stiles. He’d have to go through all of us first, Derek included. There’s no way he can get to her.” He told his friend confidently. “Risking your life isn’t going to help,” he added lightly his attention drifting to Lydia briefly when her heartbeat sped up again and the sleep she’d been near drifted away leaving her almost wide awake once again.   
  
Stiles looked up at that. “Scott...we both know that if Peter wants something bad enough, he’s gonna do whatever he has to do to get it. We’re talking about the same guy who literally mind controlled her for months so he could make her bring him back from the dead. All he’ll need is a good distraction.”   
  
“Things are different now Stiles.” He shifted in his seat leaning forward again. “Lydia didn’t understand what was happening then and she didn’t have us. We’re all a lot closer now. If something weird starts happening we’ll notice.” He said pointedly. “And you just told me you felt him in her head...if that’s the case we’ll know when he’s coming and we’ll stop him. I promise you nothing is going to happen to Lydia, I won’t let it.” Scott said, his tone brooking no room for argument.   
  
“But dude...I need you not to rush off into dangerous situations without telling us. I know you can handle your own, but you’re going to give us all a heart attack,” he said with a slight chuckle.   
  
“Whatever this connection is between us...between you and Lydia it’s getting stronger.” He told his friend. “She knew you weren’t home when we got here and it freaked her out a little. She’s been up there trying to sleep since we got home from school. I think she mostly just wanted some time to herself,” he commented, “But still within minutes of coming into the house she knew you weren’t here. And I felt that something was off, it was that feeling of you getting worked up though that sort of made me realize you were angry and doing something that might be kinda dangerous...it’s an odd thing, feeling that from someone other than me.” He admitted.   
  
They were all a lot closer now, but Stiles couldn’t help but wonder if it would truly be enough to stop Peter. Because the only way he could think of to stop Peter was one that Scott really wasn’t going to like. He sighed softly, looking down at the table for a long moment.   
  
“Yeah. The other night at the jail when you were so angry…” He looked up at him once more. “I felt it. So it’s not just the connection between me and Lydia that’s growing. I feel you, too, now, Scott.” His voice was quiet.   
  
Scott wasn’t surprised by that. He felt Stiles stronger now than in the beginning also. “Then you can see I’m worried. I just don’t want anyone to do anything they’ll regret later. I want us all to be safe and okay. Mentally, physically.” He paused, “I’m really glad you decided to get out, but just next time can you at least tell me? You’re my best friend Stiles...my brother. If there’s a chance that you’re walking into something dangerous I need to know it case something goes wrong. Not that it will, but if it does you’ll at least have some backup.” He told his friend.   
  
Stiles felt a tug of guilt because he knew what he’d done had been dangerous. The truth was he hadn’t _wanted_ to wait on Scott. Or anyone else. He didn’t want anyone else to hear the things he’d told Peter, however true they might have been. He didn’t want his friends to be afraid of him. But if he’d succeeded in putting even the slightest bit of fear into Peter Hale, even just a seed of an inkling that he’d take Stiles seriously and leave Lydia alone, it had been worth it.   
  
“You’re a good alpha, Scott,” he said softly. “And the pack’s really lucky to have you.” He paused. _”I’m_ really lucky to have you.”   
  
Scott’s expression softened and he grinned, “That means a lot, since I have no freaking clue what I’m doing,” he said with a short laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck. He grinned at Stiles, “I’m lucky I have you too dude,” he reached out and squeezed his friend’s arm gently.   
  
“We’re lucky to have you too, you know.” Scott added. He tilted his head slightly. “Why don’t you go check on Lydia I’m sure she’ll be glad you’re home. She hasn’t been able to get much sleep. I checked on her a couple of times, but she told me I was getting like Derek and being a worry wart and then kicked me out of the room and told me to finish my homework so I don’t get another B.” He shook his head, “Which apparently I’m better than,” he said with a small grin.   
  
“Yeah.” He nodded, rising to his feet and pausing at that, a grin brightening his expression. “Dude, you got a B? Good job.” He patted Scott’s shoulder proudly. “But yeah, that sounds like our Lydia.”   
  
Scott nodded, beaming, “Thanks and yes. That woman is a slave driver, good luck with that.” He said with a snort, but it was playful. “I’ll be up as soon as I’m done with this chapter, then I gotta shower cause damn I smell me even if you can’t smell it.” he chuckled. “But leave room for me okay?”   
  
Stiles chuckled involuntarily. Considering his own study habits were pretty strenuous usually, he couldn’t say much about Lydia, really. “Don’t worry, dude. I don’t think either of us sleeps as well if you’re not there, too...weird as that probably sounds.”   
  
Scott glanced up and grinned. “That doesn’t sound weird to me at all.” he chuckled, “Which is probably weird.” He told his friend amused.   
  
“Does it _not_ seeming weird mean we’ve reached whole new levels of weird-dom? Because it feels like that might be a good indicator.”   
  
Scott chuckled, “Absolutely. But there are weirder things out there so I’m not worried.” He said with a shrug. “Though I am worried about what this is going to do to my sleeping patterns when Mom and I eventually go home,” he frowned. “What if I can’t sleep without you and Lydia? I’ll have to climb through your window at night,” he joked.   
  
Stiles winced at that. “I’ll leave it unlocked,” he assured Scott, completely serious. Then again, he always had, for that reason, and Scott had always done the same for him. Climbing into each other’s rooms was actually a pretty common thing they did.   
  
Scott grinned, “Cool,” he said and then sighed, “Okay, quit distracting me or I’ll be up all night,” he joked good naturedly. He tilted his head to the side. “She’s still awake; at least her heartbeat has slowed though. It’s been fluctuating.” Scott shook his head, “No clue what she’s doing.” He told his friend before glancing back at his notebook, tapping his pencil on the book lightly.   
  
Stiles wondered if she’d been having another bad dream. He drew in a breath, glancing toward the stairs. He squeezed Scott’s shoulder for a moment, nodding. “See you when you’re all done and not stinky,” he joked, heading for the steps.   
  
Lydia shifted again sliding her body over to Stiles’ side of the bed as she tried to get comfortable. She wasn’t sure what time it was, but Allison had left at least forty minutes ago after coming up to check on her. Lydia had been close to falling asleep several times, but whenever she closed her eyes, something jolted her awake.   
  
She huffed and moved onto her back so she was glancing at the ceiling. The bedroom was dark but her eyes had long since adjusted to the lack of light. She should probably get up and change out of her school clothes, but honestly she was feeling too lazy for that at the moment.   
  
Lydia’s thoughts drifted to Stiles again and her gaze moved to where her phone sat on the bedside table. She pursed her lips. No, she wasn’t calling him. He was a big boy and she would know if he was in trouble. Despite the odd feelings she’d been getting from him a while ago, everything seemed okay. What she needed was to clear her mind and get some damn sleep.   
  
Lydia took a deep breath and let it out slowly before moving onto her side facing away from the door and towards the wall. She wrapped an arm beneath the pillow and focused on slowing her breathing down despite the rapid beating of her heart.   
  
Stiles opened the door as quietly as he could, peeking in and spotting her curled up on the bed, right in the middle where he usually slept. Despite everything else that was going on, despite knowing that they were going to have a Peter Hale shaped issue to deal with in the near future and despite knowing how he was likely going to have to deal with said issue, he smiled a little at the sight.   
  
He stepped inside the room, closed the door quietly and moved silently to the bedside. “Lydia?” he whispered, almost inaudibly. He sat down on the edge of the mattress, sliding his shoes off as he did so, and then scooting them under the bed so no one would trip on them accidentally. He laid down beside her, facing her, though her back was to him. He pressed a soft kiss to her hair and wrapped an arm around her.   
  
The tension in Lydia’s body eased considerably at the feel of Stiles sliding into bed beside her, his arm tugging her closer. She placed a hand on his and let out a short breath. “You’re home,” she said softly. Lydia scooted back a bit until Stiles was pressed up against her. “You were gone for a while,” she commented lightly.   
  
“Yeah, longer than I anticipated,” he said softly, lacing their fingers together at her waist. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. Scott told me you were anxious.” He laid his head down on her pillow, scooting them over slightly closer to the wall to make room for Scott when he was ready to show up and join them.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow. Scott was a tattle tale, she thought in amusement. “I’m fine,” she corrected, “Mildly worried, but I knew you were alright.” She responded. Lydia was silent for a minute, “Hold me tighter,” she requested softly.   
  
Stiles shifted closer to her, tightening his arm around her. “I was completely fine,” he assured her.   
  
“Where did you go?” She asked curiously. Despite the fact that she had known he wasn’t at the house, she hadn’t been able to pinpoint his location, not that she tried. Lydia didn’t want to pry or keep tabs on him. She’d rather just ask.   
  
Stiles was quiet for a moment, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “I went to see Peter,” he said softly. He winced a little, feeling her tense against him.   
  
“Why would you do that?” She asked swallowing hard. “I told you last night I was fine. It’s fine. It was just a dream,” she told him her voice barely a whisper. “You shouldn’t have gone there.” She said the tension back in her body as she turned in Stiles’ arms carefully so she was facing him now.   
  
He rubbed his hand over her arm as she gazed at him and he exhaled slowly. “It wasn’t just a dream,” he said very softly. “Peter was trying to use his connection to you to get into your head. Why, I don’t know. But he was there last night, and it wasn’t just...a nightmare.” He reached up and tucked some hair behind her ear.   
  
Lydia swallowed heavily, her chest tightening. She wished she were surprised. Last night had felt too real, and now she knew why. Lydia dropped her gaze from Stiles’ her eyes falling to his chest. She reached out hesitantly before resting her hand there. “Peter is dangerous,” she told him quietly. “I wish you wouldn’t put yourself at risk like that...I-we’ve already almost lost you. It’s not something anyone wants to go through again.” She would deal with Peter. She wasn’t giving him what he wanted. Lydia wouldn’t betray Derek like that.   
  
“Peter isn’t the only one.” His voice was quiet. He was silent for a moment. “But I have an idea about how to keep him from getting into your head again. We’re gonna need Deaton’s help for it, but if a connection can be made -- especially an unwanted one -- then that connection can be severed, too.” At least in theory. He hoped.   
  
Lydia was silent for a minute as she glanced up and caught his gaze. “You were able to keep him out,” she stated. “Maybe our connection is stronger.” She suggested quietly, “It’s changing; I can control it a bit better now.” Lydia admitted.   
  
Stiles nodded slightly. “We can work on it. Do the meditation more often.” He smiled very faintly. “I can feel Scott now, too. It’s not as…” He paused, considering his words. “Intense? But it’s more familiar. If that makes sense.”   
  
Lydia nodded, “I can feel him too. Small things like when he’s angry or nervous or upset. It’s different from the way I feel you though,” she shook her head. “I’m not fighting it as much anymore. I’m trying not to anyway.” Lydia paused, “This is going to sound crazy, but I think Peter was right. When I went to see him with Derek, he told me to stop fighting the connection,” she explained.   
  
“I think maybe if I let you in and you stop trying to block me out,” she said pointedly knowing there were things Stiles didn’t want her or Scott feeling, “That maybe those intense outbursts will stop,” Lydia paused pressing her lips together, “Uh, so did I tell you there were some intense outbursts of emotion.” She asked with half a smile, knowing she hadn’t for the simple reason of not wanting him to worry. Sometimes her mouth got her in trouble.   
  
“Yeah, he mentioned something similar to me,” he told her, nodding. He exhaled, wincing at the mention of intense outbursts. “So I’ve been trying to make things easier and all it’s done is literally make things even worse.” He chewed his lower lip. He let his eyes close for a moment. “So then we stop fighting it. If that’s what’s going to make it easier.”   
  
Lydia brushed her thumb against Stiles’ chin, “Not worse,” she responded, “It’s just you hold back all this emotion and then it comes through for a few minutes. It’s usually quick, but it does kind of make me a little sick,” she admitted, “But then you lock it all back up which just isn’t good. For you I mean.”   
  
Lydia nodded at his suggestion and shifted closer to him, “Just, just let me in,” she said softly, “And I’ll let you in and we’ll see what happens.” she whispered.   
  
Stiles swallowed hard, his heart skipping a beat at the feel of her thumb against his chin. Somehow he managed to focus on her words. “I guess that makes sense. Holding them back too long makes them...turn into a kind of tidal wave?” he asked, wanting to make sure he understood.   
  
Lydia nodded.   
  
“We’ll try it,” he agreed.   
  
Lydia tilted her head, “Okay.” She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I’m so tired, I haven’t been able to sleep something keeps waking me up.” She brushed her hand against her nose, “You’re staying now right? Not going anywhere else? And what about Scott? Is he coming up soon?”   
  
“I’m staying,” he assured her especially if she was going to try and sleep. He had a feeling the only reason Peter hadn’t gotten whatever he wanted inside her head the night before was because of their own connection. “Scott was gonna finish up some reading and take a shower before coming up.”   
  
He shifted slightly so that he was lying on his back, tugging her closer to him so she could lie her head against his chest if she wanted.   
  
Lydia went willingly curling up against him, her arm wrapping around his midsection as she rested her head on his chest beneath his chin. She slid her leg against his situating herself until she was comfortably draped against him. “Good, I don’t sleep well when you’re gone.” she admitted, “I like having you guys here.”   
  
Stiles smiled softly, letting his eyes close as he wrapped his right arm around her. “Yeah. Same here,” he murmured. “I don’t sleep well without you guys either.”   
  
Lydia smirked, her eyes heavy. “It’s because we’re good cuddlers,” she joked yawing. She could feel her body getting heavy as her eyes fluttered shut. “G’night,” she mumbled against his chest.   
  
“The best,” he agreed with a smile, closing his eyes, too. “Night, Lydia.”   
  
Her lips brushed lightly against his chest when she shifted her head finally letting sleep claim her.   


______

  
  
Michael ran his hand through his hair as he glanced in the mirror. He stared at his reflection for a minute before pursing his lips. There was no reason to be nervous. This was just two people grabbing a bite to eat. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Okay, maybe not _just_ two people. Him and Melissa. He had finally gotten up the balls to ask if she wanted to grab dinner the other night after Allison went home and Scott went to do his homework. Lydia had been resting and Stiles had been out and Michael figured there probably wouldn’t be a better time to ask especially with their lives.   
  
Michael cleared his throat, stepped away from the dresser and grabbed his sheriff jacket off the bed. He’d take it off in the car so the kids didn’t get suspicious. He sent one more fleeting glance at the mirror before making his way downstairs. He could hear Lydia talking to Stiles and Scott and he smiled. They were studying, something that they did a lot lately. Michael was glad. The last thing he wanted was for Stiles to fall behind, not that he was too worried. His son was smart.   
  
He made his way down the hallway and stepped into the kitchen in time to see Scott groan and drop his head to the table. He arched an eyebrow. “Everything okay in here?” He asked lightly.   
  
Lydia glanced up and nodded as she flipped a blue index card over. “Yes, Scott just got his third question in a row wrong so he lost five points.” She explained as she placed a green index card in front of Scott.   
  
Michael glanced at his son, “Do I want to know?”   
  
Stiles grinned. “Lydia invented a game for chemistry studying,” he informed his dad. “It’s not Scott’s best subject, but we’re working on it.” He patted Scott’s arm supportively. “Right, Scott?”   
  
Scott looked up and glared at his friend, but it dissipated immediately at the grin on Stiles’ face. He huffed, “This game is stupid,” he whined.   
  
Lydia rolled her eyes and glanced at the Sheriff. “It’s reward based because studies show that’s a more effective way to study for most teenagers.” She explained. “Scott is irate because he just lost some of his reward.” She told him moving the cards about again.   
  
“I’m not irate,” Scott grumbled. He glanced at Stiles, “I thought we were going to do teams, Stiles you should be on my team.” He announced.   
  
Michael chuckled. They were already all like siblings...not that he was thinking of them being siblings, but they certainly acted like they were. It was nice.   
  
Stiles’ grinned brightened when his dad laughed and he shrugged a shoulder. “We need a fourth person for equal teams. We should recruit someone.” He paused, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “Like Kira.”   
  
He watched his best friend’s face light up at the mention of the other girl and he gave Lydia a knowing look. Then he looked up at his dad. “Are you going into work?”   
  
Michael cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got some overdue paperwork to deal with. But I won’t be back late. If you guys want to invite Kira over you can,” he offered knowing Stiles probably already knew he didn’t mind, but wanting to clarify.   
  
Lydia spoke up before Stiles could say anything. “I’ll tell you what Scott; if you get the next two questions right then we’ll call Kira to come over.” She smirked, “That will be your reward.” She told him.   
  
Scott straightened up and glanced at the cards across the table top. “You’re on.” He said immediately.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow when she heard the sheriff let out a small noise, grin on his face. She returned the smile. “It’s all about finding the right motivation,” she said in a loud whisper.   
  
Stiles shook his head in amusement. He smiled up at his dad. “Sounds good.” He rose to his feet, hesitating only a second before wrapping his arms around his dad in a tight hug. “Don’t work too hard.”   
  
Michael hugged Stiles back, “I won’t,” he said lightly patting his sons back before releasing him. “There’s dinner in the fridge,” he said pointing, “Melissa made meatloaf.”   
  
Vaguely he remembered Isaac making a comment once about how much he loved Ms. McCall’s meatloaf. He glanced toward the fridge, wondering how much she’d made. “And you’re gonna miss out on that?” he teased. “Are you feeling okay?”   
  
“Yeah, I um,” he paused running his hand over the back of his head, “I had some earlier because I knew I’d be heading out.” He said with a smile.   
  
Lydia glanced up curious at the tone of the sheriff’s voice. She tilted her head to the side and watched him and Stiles as he started talking again.   
  
“I should head out, that paperwork isn’t going to sign itself,” Michael joked nervously.   
  
Stiles arched his eyebrows, glancing at Scott sideways before looking back at his dad. “Okay. Well, then see you soon.” There was _something_ not quite right about his dad’s story but he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was, either. He just knew his dad wasn’t telling the whole truth. Which was weird. Usually he was the one keeping secrets.   
  
“Have a good evening, Sheriff,” Scott told him, looking from Lydia to Stiles’ dad.   
  
Lydia grinned and waved.   
  
Michael lifted his fingers and waved stiffly back before clearing his throat again. “Okay well behave,” he said, “See you three later.” He added as he turned around and walked back out of the room heading for the garage and his car all the while thinking that had been a close call.   
  
Stiles looked at Scott with raised eyebrows after his dad vanished out into the garage. “Okay. That was kind of weird.”   
  
Scott nodded, “Your Dad has been kind of weird lately dude.” He added pushing the index cards around on the table. “I wonder what that’s all about.” He said with a frown.   
  
“Yeah, me too,” he admitted, moving over and picking up his cell phone off the table. He sent a quick text to Isaac. _Ms. McCall made meatloaf if you’re interested. My house. Bring Allison._   
  
The reply was almost instantaneous. _We’ll be there soon._ Scott glanced at Stiles, “I wonder what he’s hiding.” He said his gaze drifting to Lydia, “What do you think?” He asked watching as she piled index cards on top of each other in color order.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow. She was pretty sure on some level Scott and Stiles could probably figure out why his dad was acting so strange. Lydia had a theory, but she’d let them catch up knowing they would eventually. She shrugged, “No idea,” she said lightly.   
  
Stiles smiled at Isaac’s response, not the least bit surprised. He set his phone down again, then moved over to the refrigerator, pulling out the meatloaf. “I’ll go ahead and pop this in the oven to heat it up.” He’d let Isaac and Allison be a surprise for his friends. They were all slowly starting to come back together again and he figured this would help.   
  
Within a few moments of returning to the table, Scott had guessed the correct answers on the next two questions in Lydia’s game, and they called Kira, as well. She’d brought over cake earlier that week -- chocolate, very lopsided, but tasty nonetheless. He decided he liked Kira a lot, and seeing his best friend look so happy when he was around the girl didn’t hurt in the least. If Scott was happy, Stiles was happy.   
  
Scott stood, “I’m going to go change,” he glanced down at himself. “Before Kira gets here.” He explained, “More studying later,” He called out as he jogged toward the steps.   
  
Lydia shook her head, grin on her face as she watched him go. “He’s hopeless,” she said affectionately. She was actually glad Kira was stopping by. She hadn’t gotten many chances to see the other girl since she helped save Stiles’ life. Kira was definitely growing on her. She was funny and pretty smart too. Lydia was determined to bring Kira into their group -- they could use another girl.   
  
Stiles smirked, watching his best friend head up the steps. “Yeah, but he’s happy so.” He shrugged. Then he turned his attention to Lydia. “Okay, quiz me.” He grinned at her.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “But you know them all,” she said with a smile, “Plus I don’t have any incentives,” she added even as she shuffled the cards.   
  
“Good grades are the incentive,” he informed her.   
  
Lydia chuckled, “But you get those without me,” she told him as she held up a card with the word ‘acid anhydride’ on it. “Define it.” Lydia said simply.   
  
“An organic compound that has to acyl groups bound to the same oxygen atom,” he told her, leaning back in his chair.   
  
Lydia bit the inside of her cheek. “You’re looking quite smug,” she said her tone amused. “It’s not fun when you know all the answers.” She said even as she dug for another card. “Where’s Ms. McCall tonight?” she asked casually while she searched for a harder word.   
  
“She went to the hospital for awhile.” Stiles paused, cocking his head and looking toward the garage. “She said she had some _paperwork_ she needed to do.” Suspicion flickered through him and he arched his eyebrows. “Huh. Interesting _coincidence._ ”   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Oh did she?” She asked lightly. “Hmm,” she lifted a blue card with the word ‘chirality’ on it. “I guess paperwork is a popular thing,” she told him as she caught his gaze, her lip twitching at the corner.   
  
“On a Friday night no less.” Stiles smirked, studying the card and reciting the definition. At least he wasn’t going to be behind in chemistry.   
  
Lydia tossed down the card. “Friday nights are popular for paperwork,” she added with a glance, “I remember when Friday night was date night.” She responded with a dramatic sigh as she put the cards down again and leaned back in her seat. “I wonder if people still do date night on Friday,” she pondered playfully, “Flowers, candy, making out in dark theaters and cars.”   
  
He snorted. “Wouldn’t know. Never been on an actual date. Like...ever.” He shrugged and rose to his feet, moving to kitchen portion of the room and rummaging through the cabinets. “So what kind of vegetable do you want with the meatloaf? Green beans? Peas?” he asked, glancing back over at her.   
  
Lydia stared at him for a solid minute, “Wait, what...forget the vegetables I don’t care.” She said leaning forward. “You’ve never, I mean, that can’t be true...can it?” She asked herself mostly. “I’ve seen you with girls...I mean you know, um I’ve...yeah no that sounds weird too.” She waved away her words. “Not even one date?” She asked without judgment, just surprise.   
  
“Well we can’t just have meatloaf,” he pointed out, looking between the two cans of vegetables and deciding on the green beans. He turned to glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, it’s true. I mean, we went to winter formal together but I think we probably both agree that didn’t exactly qualify as a date.” Plus the night had ended horribly. Thanks to Peter Hale.   
  
Lydia tilted her head to the side, “Well I don’t know...I had a nice time. You were sweet, we danced...and then at the end of the night you kind of saved my life,” she added watching him closely as she spoke, “So you can probably add that to a successful date column,” she responded. Peter had told her about that when she went to see him with Derek, but Lydia hadn’t exactly found a minute to bring it up since then...until now anyway.   
  
Stiles stilled at that, freezing in place for a long moment and holding his breath before turning to look at her with slightly wide eyes. No doubt she could feel his shock at her words. How the hell had she found out about _that?_ He wanted to point out that yeah, they’d danced...and then she’d gone to look for Jackson. But he remained silent, just staring at her.   
  
Lydia tried not to wince at the emotions that came from him in a rush. Not because they were overwhelming, but because she got a distinct feeling of _Stiles_ feeling inadequate. At least momentarily. There was surprise and a few other things thrown in that she would file away for later. “I know that night was far from perfect.” She said quietly, “I know _I_ was far from perfect.” She’d been too worried about Jackson to really care all that much about Stiles. “I was sort of bitch and I left you in the middle of our dance.” Lydia pressed her lips together. “I regret that now,” she said honestly as she tapped her fingers against the table.   
  
Lydia swallowed hard and glanced back up at Stiles, “But if I had the night to do over...I’d stay you know.” She admitted softly. “I just...I’m a little curious why you didn’t just tell me what happened.” She should have known Jackson didn’t save her. He hadn’t been at the hospital when she woke up. Stiles had, which should have told her something then.   
  
“You weren’t a bitch, Lydia.” Stiles shook his head, drawing in a breath and moving to find a can opener. This wasn’t a conversation he’d ever really expected to have with her and mostly he wondered how she’d found out the truth at all. “I knew you didn’t have those feelings for me, and I wasn’t...you know, I wasn’t expecting anything.” He pursed his lips, pouring the can of green beans into a pan and setting it atop the stove.   
  
“As for the rest…” He hesitated. “I wanted you to have at least some good memory of the dance. I mean obviously the way it ended wasn’t good, but...best possible ending for the night.” He didn’t look at her as he turned on the stove. Jackson may have been an asshole to her for the rest of the night, but he had shown up and taken her to the hospital, at least.   
  
Lydia could feel his confusion as he spoke and when he finished she nodded. “I see,” she said lightly before answering a question she could practically hear him shouting even though he’d said nothing. “Peter told me you know. What you offered him,” she told him, her voice quiet.   
  
Maybe it was time for her to clue Stiles in on the fact that she’d be open to a redo on their non-date...except this time Stiles is the only person she’d want to spend her night with. Lydia bit the inside of her cheek. “Stiles, maybe, if you wanted to we could-”   
  
“Ready!” Scott called out stepped into the kitchen loudly cutting off Lydia’s words. He glanced at Stiles. “Do I look okay?” He asked brushing his hand down his shirt.   
  
Stiles’ face went stricken at that, and he held his breath. He wondered if Peter also told her what he’d offered _him_ that same night. Somehow he doubted it. It wasn’t a conversation he was sure he was ready to have. He wasn’t sure he’d ever really be ready to have that talk, really.   
  
But he relaxed a little at the sound of his best friend’s voice as he reappeared, and he turned to face Scott. “Yeah, dude. You look fine.”   
  
Scott grinned, “Awesome, she’ll be here in ten minutes.” He said as he plopped down at the table and smiled at Lydia.   
  
Lydia returned his smile half-heartedly before gathering up the index cards on the table. “I’ll just clean this stuff up,” she told them lightly.   
  
Stiles felt her disappointment and realized that even though he hadn’t wanted to, she’d wanted to talk about that night. He turned, looking at her for a moment. _Soon,_ he thought, holding his breath. They’d talk about it soon whether he wanted to or not.   
  
Scott frowned, “What’s going on?” He asked glancing between Lydia and Stiles.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow and shook her head, “Nothing,” she responded with a smile, “You worry too much McCall.” Lydia pushed her chair back and stood. “I’m going to go run a brush through my hair before people actually come here. I can’t look this casual,” she said scrunching her nose.   
  
Scott watched her for a minute and then smiled, “Of course not.” He joked as he watched her pick up the cards and glance at Stiles for a second before heading for the stairs calling out that she’d be right back.   
  
Scott’s gaze drifted to Stiles, “Everything good?” He asked at the mixed emotions he was getting from Stiles.   
  
Stiles watched her go, then sighed softly, rubbing a hand over his face. “She knows. About the night of the winter formal.” His voice was quiet. “Apparently Peter told her about it when she went to see him.”   
  
Scott’s brows drew together, his mouth forming an ‘o’. He was silent for a minute. He scratched the back of his neck, “Okay...I’m failing to see an issue with that.” He told his friend continuing before Stiles could say anything, “I mean it’s a big deal, but...you guys care about each other. Is it so bad if she knows?” He asked with a small smile. Scott was rooting for his best friend and Lydia even though they both claimed there was just friendship there, well at least that what Stiles claimed. Lydia had stopped actively denying it months ago.   
  
Stiles scratched the back of his neck and let out a breath. “Kind of ruins the one good memory of the night with Jackson for her,” he said quietly. And he wasn’t convinced that was a good thing really.   
  
Scott sighed and stood up from his chair. He walked over to Stiles and patted his friend on the back. “I have a feeling Lydia isn’t really looking at it that way. But if that’s what you’re worried about, talk to her or better yet you can feel her dude,” Scott grinned, “Listen to those feelings. But not now,” he added, “We’re having people over. You can deal with your Lydia issues later,” he joked trying to lighten the mood.   
  
Scott was probably right about that, but he felt so conflicted about the whole thing personally. He was relieved when the doorbell rang. “That is...more than likely for you, dude.”   
  
Scott grinned. “My date,” he said patting Stiles chest and then shifting forward and heading for the door. He was looking forward to spending some time with Kira. He gripped the handle on the door and pulled it open surprise crossing his face when he saw Allison and Isaac standing there instead of his girlfriend-well soon to be girlfriend-. “Hey guys, I didn’t know you were coming over,” he said with a grin as he opened the door wider.   
  
Isaac smiled at him. “Stiles told us your mom made meatloaf and that we should come join you guys.” He hesitated. “That’s cool, right?” There was a hint of uncertainty in his tone and he looked back at Allison when she squeezed his arm.   
  
Scott grinned and reached out tugging Isaac gently inside. “Of course that’s cool. I should have realized the second meatloaf was involved you’d be here,” he joked good naturedly. Scott’s gaze drifted to Allison and his expression softened, “Hey,” he said his voice light.   
  
Allison smiled softly at him. “Hey,” she greeted in return. “He wasted no time dragging me over when Stiles texted. Your mom’s meatloaf must be amazing.” Her voice was light, too.   
  
“You have no idea. It’s incredible,” Isaac informed her, moving inside the house.   
  
Scott chuckled. He was about to close the door behind them when he spotted Kira. His face lit up, “You’re here,” he said once again opening the door wider.   
  
Kira smiled back at him. “I am. I was invited.” Her voice was teasing.   
  
Scott had a silly grin on his face as he closed the door behind her.   
  
Isaac glanced behind him to see who Scott was talking to and he smirked when he spotted Kira. It looked like Scott was definitely pursuing what he wanted, as was Isaac. He slipped his hand into Allison’s and threaded their fingers together right as Lydia made her way down the stairs.   
  
She blinked and then smiled, “Hey, I didn’t know you guys were coming over.” Lydia stepped off the last stair and made her way over to Allison catching her friends interlocking hands.   
  
“I invited them,” Stiles spoke up from the kitchen. “Dinner’s not quite ready but it will be soon,” he called. “Make yourselves at home.”   
  
Isaac nodded at the redhead, “Hi Lydia.”   
  
Lydia glanced at Isaac amused, “Hi Isaac.” She shook her head and then leaned over enough to see Scott and Kira. “Hey Kira,” she said with a smile.   
  
Scott placed a hand at the small of Kira’s back infinitely glad she and Lydia were getting along now.   
  
“Hi,” Kira said with a bright smile at the other girl. “How’s it going?”   
  
“Good,” Lydia said with a smile, “Have I mentioned it’s nice to have some girls here,” She said eyeing Scott before glancing between Allison and Kira. “I’m forever surrounded by boys.” She joked.   
  
Scott snorted as he guided Kira further into the room, “You love us, don’t complain.”   
  
Allison grinned, draping an arm over Lydia’s shoulders. “Here to save you, don’t worry. We’ll help balance out the testosterone.”   
  
“Thank god,” she said with a grin. “Are we doing a movie with dinner, Stiles?” She called out loudly into the other room as Isaac shifted his head back.   
  
“No screaming,” he said with a mock flinch.   
  
Lydia just rolled her eyes as she waited for Stiles answer.   
  
“Sure. We can if everyone wants to. Feel free to raid the collection downstairs or in my room for the better movies.” He grabbed some plates out of the china cabinet, setting them on the counter near the stove.   
  
Allison glanced toward the stairs. “We’ll do that.” She grabbed Lydia’s hand and pulled her toward the steps.   
  
Lydia glanced over her shoulder with a smile, “Come with Kira, let the guys take care of dinner.” She said already making her way up the stairs with Allison.   
  
Kira hesitated, glancing at Scott for a moment, and then following the other two girls, leaving the guys alone in the kitchen.   
  
Scott pouted, “Lydia’s in so much trouble,” he grumbled moving over to Stiles with Isaac listening as the girls laughed on their way up the stairs.   
  
Lydia had guided them to Stiles bedroom shutting the door once they were all inside and plopping down on the bed. She grinned, “I haven’t had nearly enough girl time lately,” she commented motioning for them to find a seat. Lydia guessed she probably could have brought them into the guest room since all of her stuff was in their now.   
  
The guys had been good about helping her bring everything over, but Stiles room, was much more hers than the guest room.   
  
Allison arched her eyebrows; both surprised and amused at how easily Lydia made herself right at home in Stiles’ bedroom. And on his bed. Granted, she knew that most nights, the two of them were sharing a bed because Lydia had admitted that much to her the other day.   
  
“You haven’t really protested all the guy time,” she teased, moving to sit down on Stiles’ desk chair, and rolling the chair over to Stiles’ collection of DVDs stacked neatly on a shelf in the corner.   
  
“Well of course not, I like guys,” she grinned as she shifted back so her feet didn’t reach the floor.   
  
Kira bit her bottom lip, “Maybe certain guys,” she said lightly.   
  
“Specifically one who lives in this house and oh, interesting. To whom this bedroom belongs to.”   
  
Lydia snorted, “I’ve claimed this bed as my own. It’s more comfortable than the guest room bed and it’s bigger,” and full of warm bodies, she added silently. “And excuse me, but if we’re talking about guys I think the two of you are way more smitten than me.” She glanced at Allison, “Don’t think I didn’t see the hand holding.” She pointed out to her best friend before her gaze shifted to Kira.   
  
“And you baked a cake for Stiles, because you’re nice and because you totally have a thing for Scott,” she added with a knowing look.   
  
“Not denying it,” Allison said casually, trailing her fingers down the stack of DVDs. But she smirked, pulling one out and holding it up for Lydia to see. “But somehow I don’t think Stiles bought a copy of _The Notebook_ for himself.”   
  
Lydia’s head whipped around in Allison’s direction. Her heart warmed at the sight of the movie. Just another reason she should have given Stiles a chance years ago. Lydia arched an eyebrow at Allison, “Stiles is a sensitive guy,” she commented with half a shrug, “I bet he really enjoys Allie and Noah’s story,” she explained.   
  
Kira grinned as she sat on the video game chair near Stiles’ bed. “Or maybe he enjoys spending time with you.”   
  
Lydia smiled, “Well I would hope so since it’ll be hard to get rid of me now that I sort of live here,” she responded with a slight laugh.   
  
Allison smirked. “Well, I doubt the guys are going to want to sit through this one tonight.” Plus it was on the depressing side. She put it back into the stack of DVDs. “What about...Independence Day?” she suggested.   
  
Lydia nodded, “I love Will Smith,” she said before pausing, “Don’t judge me.”   
  
Kira tilted her head to the side. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that one, but I’m okay with it.” She said with a smile. She didn’t really care what they watched. Kira was just glad she was invited and got to spend some time with Scott.   
  
“Who doesn’t love Will Smith?” Allison asked, arching an eyebrow as she pulled the movie from the stack. She glanced at Kira. “Really? You’ve never seen it?”   
  
Kira shook her head. “It’s probably the only Will Smith one I haven’t seen,” she said sheepishly, “Oh and that one where he comes back to earth with his son or something,” she shrugged.   
  
“After Earth,” Allison supplied. “It was okay. Independence Day is one of his best, though.”   
  
Lydia nodded, “I agree about Independence Day,” she told Kira, “I think you’ll like it.” Lydia said with a small smile. She was silent for a minute as she watched Allison turn the DVD cover over in her hands. “I think Stiles is coming back to school in a week or so,” she commented lightly.   
  
“It’ll be good to have him back,” Kira said with a soft smile. Not that she’d spent a lot of time around Stiles in school, but she imagined it would probably be good for everyone, including Stiles, if he was back in school with everyone else.   
  
“Yeah it will,” Allison agreed.   
  
Lydia nodded. “It will definitely be better when he’s back,” she said picking at the fabric of her skirt before glancing between Allison and Kira, “We should probably head back downstairs. I bet dinner’s all ready by now,” she told them with a bright smile   
  
“I hope so. I’m starving.” Kira rose to her feet, tucking some hair behind her ear and heading for the door.   


______

  
  
Lydia put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher pushing it closed tightly, the sound of her friends arguing over who got what seat in the living room making her smile. Dinner had been nice and relaxed. It was good to catch up with Allison and Isaac and to get to know Kira better. The fact that everyone was mostly calm around each other was nice too.   
  
There were a couple of mildly tense moments, but they passed quickly and without incident. Stiles’ emotions seemed pretty steady as did Scott’s. He seemed happier than usual, but Lydia couldn’t blame him. He and Kira made an adorable couple. Isaac and Allison did too. It didn’t go unnoticed to her that everyone was paired up. But that wasn’t important she guessed. Lydia had seen Scott tense up once or twice with the more than friendly physical contact between Isaac and Allison, but he’d released the tension quickly and without anyone outside of probably her and Stiles noticing.   
  
Lydia made her way over to the cabinet and pulled out two bags of popcorn. “I’m gonna need an extra pair of hands,” she called out as she put one bag in the microwave and started it before moving to get two bowls for the popcorn. She pulled open the cabinet and stretched up struggling to reach the bowl. She huffed, without her heels she was at least three inches shorter. It was annoying. Lydia pushed herself up on her toes and attempted to reach it again, this time lifting herself as high as she could.   
  
Stiles made his way into the kitchen, watching her for a moment, a smile tugging at his mouth at the fact that she couldn’t quite reach what she was trying to get. He rested his hands on her waist without thinking about it. “Need some help?” he teased.   
  
His touch startled her making her jump slightly and she nearly lost her balance. “Jeez,” Lydia angled her head back, “Make a sound would you,” she told him before nodding. “I can’t reach,” she said with a sigh. “You guys put everything up so high.”   
  
“I think I’m picking up Scott’s werewolf stealth,” he joked, steadying her easily. Once she was steady on her feet again, he reached up and grabbed the bowls down from the cabinet. “Here you go, Short Stuff.” He smirked.   
  
Lydia’s mouth dropped open, “You’re a terrible person and we can no longer be friends,” Lydia said in one breath as she grabbed the bowls from him, a pout on her face. Her words were teasing, but she sent him a mild glare to show her disapproval of his new nickname for her. “I’ll have you know I am average height for my age and weight.” She pointed out right before the microwave beeped. “You can come up with a more creative nickname for me.” Lydia said while pulling out the bag of popcorn and carefully dumping it in one of the bowls.   
  
He grinned at her indignant tone. “I am. I’m terrible,” he agreed, nodding solemnly. “But I’ll come up with a better nickname. Red?” He asked cocking his head. “No, too uncreative.” He tugged lightly on one of her curls and moved to put the second bag of popcorn in the microwave.   
  
Lydia placed the second empty bowl by the microwave as she watched him. “Like Little Red Riding Hood?” she inquired as she leaned back against the counter amused, “What are you the big bad wolf?” Lydia smirked, “Though you lack the claws.” She pointed out teasing him. “I suppose it’s mildly better than Short Stuff,” she said distastefully.   
  
“No, just red. You know, because of your hair. Though technically it’s strawberry blonde.” He smirked back at her at the comment about his lack of claws. “Strawberry Shortcake?” He laughed.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow and held back a grin, “After the food because I’m sinfully sweet or after the cartoon character because I’m adorable and fun loving?” She asked while reaching for the half eaten bag of M&M’s on the counter that Ms. McCall had brought Stiles home yesterday.   
  
“Because of both?” He arched an eyebrow, still grinning at her.   
  
“Then I accept this nickname because it embodies all of my wonderful qualities.” She told him brightly a smile pulling at her lips as the microwave beeped again. She stepped forward and pulled open the door to grab the bag. “Did you happen to secure a good seat for the movie? Because I like this one.” She admitted listening as Isaac and Scott laughed about something in the other room. She held out the bag of popcorn to Stiles while reaching for the bowl.   
  
He took the bag from her and opened it, dumping it into the bowl. “I figured the floor was as good a spot as any. But you can probably get Scott off the couch for a place there instead. You just have to give him that look.”   
  
“You’re going to make me sit alone?” She asked as she shifted back to grab some water bottles from the refrigerator for everyone. “If you’re sitting on the floor that’s fine with me.” She added knowing the second the movie started the couples would most likely be sitting with each other. It seemed she and Stiles were the odd ones out at the moment.   
  
“I didn’t figure you’d want to sit on the floor, but you’re most welcome to join me, SS.” He smirked.   
  
Lydia rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her face. “Well I’m certainly not going to cramp Allison’s style and try to cuddle up to her and Isaac, and somehow I don’t think Kira will be as keen to share Scott as you are, so looks like you’re stuck with me.” She joked lightly. Lydia grabbed a few bottle and paused, “You know, we should switch. I’ll grab the bowls of popcorn and you come get the water from me. You have longer arms; you’ll be able to carry more.” She told him.   
  
“Wait, you mean because Kira and Isaac are here, we can’t cuddle with our best friends? That’s just not right.” His tone was light and he scooped up all the bottles of water in his arms and carried them into the living room, following her.   
  
Lydia followed him into the living room amused. She handed one bowl to Scott and Kira who were on the couch and the other to Allison who was on the floor with Isaac.   
  
Scott grinned, “Thanks.” He pointed to the other half of the couch, “We saved you and Stiles seats,” he told her with a grin as he rested his arm on the back of the couch behind Kira. No, Scott had not been listening to their conversation...that would be wrong.   
  
“Awesome.” Stiles grinned at his best friend and then dropped down beside him on the sofa, patting the cushion beside him for Lydia to join him.   
  
Lydia held up a finger and made her way over to turn off the lights.   
  
Scott shifted his foot and bumped into Allison, “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.   
  
Allison shifted over slightly, craning her neck back to look at him. “No big deal. Are we ready? Kira’s never seen this before.”   
  
Isaac tilted his head back since he was sitting in front of Kira, “Really? It’s good, you’ll like it.” He said matter-of-factly. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone who didn’t like it...then again his circle of friends was pretty much currently present. Isaac didn’t get out much. He hesitantly reached out and rested his hand over Allison’s as he watched Lydia walk back over to the couch and sit beside Stiles.   
  
Stiles draped his arm around the back of the sofa as Lydia sat down and he handed the bowl of popcorn to her with his free hand. “Let’s get the party started.”   
  
Lydia glanced at Scott and almost as if he felt her looking at him he turned his head. She pointed to the television. “Start it,” she said with a short laugh.   
  
Scott glanced down realizing the remote was on his lap. “And for the second time,” he pointed the remote at the television and pressed play, “Here we go.” He said with a grin dropping the remote beside him as he let his hand fall on Kira’s shoulder, while his other shoulder rested against Stiles. He glanced around briefly at his friends...his _pack_ and couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips. Things were finally starting to get back to normal and he couldn't be happier.   


______

  
  
Melissa made her way into the Stilinski household, only taking a couple of steps inside before her gaze moved around the mess of teens that were all over the place. She blinked a couple of times. “I think they multiplied,” she whispered, looking back at Michael with raised eyebrows. “We seem to have acquired three more than usual.” A smile twitched at her mouth.   
  
Michael closed the door quietly and stepped towards Melissa glancing over her shoulder at the teenagers littering the living room and he couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips. “I can see that,” he said amused as he rested a hand on the small of her back. “I wish I had a camera at times like these.” He told her quietly.   
  
He tilted his head catching sight of Isaac and Allison, arms wrapped around each other on the floor resting against Scott and Stiles’ legs. “How in the world do they sleep like that?” He asked keeping his voice low.   
  
She shook her head in amusement. “I have no idea.” Her gaze rested upon her son, whose head was on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles’ head was on Lydia’s shoulder. Kira’s head was resting on Scott’s arm as they all lay clumped together like dominoes that had fallen over on the sofa.   
  
“But.” She pulled her phone from her purse, shooting Michael a bright smile and then taking a couple of pictures with her camera phone. “We’re going to have to get you a better phone. You can’t miss out on opportunities like this, you know.”   
  
Michael looked away from the kids and watched Melissa instead as she took pictures of them. His expression was soft as he rubbed his hand against her back. “That’s what I have you for,” he said softly. “But I guess a better phone would probably be good too,” he told her, “I could always use Stiles’ old one since he has a new one now.”   
  
“There you go. I’ll even show you how to use it.” She patted his arm fondly, then guided him around the sleeping teens and toward the stairs.   
  
“Now?” Michael asked with arched eyebrows as he followed her toward the stairs. He glanced at Melissa out of the corner of his eye as they made their way upstairs.   
  
“Have other plans?” she teased.   
  
Michael chuckled, “No,” he said shaking his head as they stepped into the upstairs hallway. He ran his hand down her arm and took her hand. Their dinner went well, really well and they’d had a good time. But they weren’t entirely sure where this was going so they had decided to keep it from the kids until they were sure that way they didn’t get anyone’s hopes up. “I left the phone on my dresser. I meant to give it back to him, but I forgot,” he said shaking his head.   
  
Melissa laced her fingers through his as they headed for his room to get the phone. She sat down on the edge of his bed, waiting until he did the same, before flipping the phone on and giving him a few basic instructions on how to operate it. “I only know because Stiles showed _me_ how to use my new phone a few weeks ago,” she admitted.   
  
Michael chuckled, “That kid,” he shook his head as he rested his hands flat on the bed beside him. “He could program anything.” Michael told her lightly. He lifted his hand and pointed to the little decal on the screen, “What’s that mean?”   
  
“Oh, that’s where you take video.” She pushed the decal on the screen, pausing when she saw several recently labeled ones such as “Dad,” “Scott,” and “Lydia.” She glanced at him uncertainly.   
  
Michael hesitated, “Can we play those?” He asked her his chest tightening slightly as his heartbeat picked up speed. He didn’t know what the videos said, but a part of him knew they couldn't be good.   
  
She hesitated, too, because she had the same feeling. Wordlessly, she moved to the door, and shut it quietly before sitting down beside him once more. “Are you sure?”   
  
Michael ran his hands over his legs and nodded. “We need to know what they say,” he told her.   
  
She drew in a breath, nodding slightly, hesitating for another second before hovering over the one labeled, “Dad.” She glanced at Michael sideways and then pressed “play.”   
  
After a few seconds, they could see Stiles’ face appear on the screen. It was dark all around him, and he looked broken. Afraid. She’d seen him that way so many times in the recent past that it hurt seeing him on camera like that too.   
  
“Hey, Dad,” he whispered, voice shaky. “I just...I want you to know how sorry I am. For everything I’ve been doing. If I could take it all back…” He shut his eyes for a moment and then opened them again. “But I can’t. And I can’t keep hurting people. I don’t want to hurt anyone else. Please know this isn’t your fault. And...don’t blame Allison’s dad. I called him here. I asked him to -- to stop me. Don’t be mad at him, and...please don’t arrest him. It’s the right thing to do.” He rubbed a hand over his face as he leaned back against a tree. “I’m so sorry. I wish that -- I wish I’d been the kind of kid you deserved. I know I wasn’t. But you’ve been a great dad anyway. I love you.” He looked down. “Take care of Scott for me, okay? Look after him.”   
  
Melissa’s eyes were brimming with tears and when she blinked, they slid down her cheeks, horror filling her.   
  
“And -- don’t eat bacon. It’s bad for your heart.” Stiles managed a feeble smile on screen. “Goodbye, Dad.” The video grew dark.   
  
Michael stared at the small screen, his chest tight. It wasn’t real...it couldn’t be real. He lifted his hand and ran it down his face, his eyes burning with unshed tears. Michael dropped his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. Stiles had wanted Chris Argent to end his life. Thank god he hadn’t. Michael had no idea what to say.   
  
Melissa set the phone back down on the bed wordlessly, reaching up and laying a hand between his shoulder blades. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected when she’d clicked the video, but that definitely hadn’t been it.   
  
Michael closed his eyes, a couple of tears slipping from his eyes. “He’s always trying to protect everyone else,” he told Melissa, “He doesn’t even realize...I have no idea what I’d do without him,” he whispered. “I had no idea it had gotten that bad...that he’d been that close. God,” Michael dropped his head into his hands as he shook his head.   
  
Melissa shifted on the bed, wrapping her arms around him tightly. “Then we make him realize it,” she whispered. “Both of us. _All_ of us.” She swallowed hard.   
  
Michael wrapped his arms around her. “I have no idea if...if he still feels this way. If this is what he wished had happened...if he wanted to be saved.” He shook his head his arms tightening around Melissa. “God,” he whispered again not sure what to say or do at the moment. Too floored that his son would ever think of ending his own life.   
  
“At the time he made this video, he was completely distraught,” she whispered. “But we’ll talk to him. We’ll make sure that he’s...that he’s not feeling like that anymore. Okay?” She rubbed his back gently.   
  
Michael glanced up at Melissa, “I thought things were getting better...I mean, they seem to be don’t they?” He asked his chest tightening. “Do you think the kids know about this?” He asked quietly, “Scott and Lydia didn’t say much about what happened when they saved him...maybe this is why.”   
  
“I honestly don’t know,” she whispered. “I think if Scott knew and he believed there was _any_ chance Stiles felt like this still, he would’ve told us, especially when he went back to school. He wouldn’t have taken the chance.” That much she knew was true.   
  
Michael nodded, “We should talk to him,” he said quietly. “God I’m sorry,” he said glancing at her, “This is not how I planned for this night to go, not that I was planning, but...I’m sorry,” he told her glancing down once again.   
  
“Michael. You don’t need to apologize. Stiles and Scott come first. Always,” Melissa said sincerely. “That’s something that’s always going to be true for both of us.”   
  
He nodded. “I just...It hurts that things got that bad and I wasn’t there to help. These kids go through so much and it’s so hard to protect them from things when they’re in the middle of them.” Michael said shaking his head with a sigh.   
  
“You were there. We can’t be everywhere,” she said sadly. “As much as we want to protect them, their instincts tell them they need to protect us. I hate it.” She sighed, too.   
  
Michael let out a short laugh, “Our kids are driving me to drink,” he joked, “How is it that they are constantly protecting us? And we’re good parents,” he told her. Michael let out a short breath. “I’ll never be able to unsee that.” He admitted.   
  
She rested her head against his shoulder. “They grew up when we weren’t looking.” Because they hadn’t known _where_ to look to begin with. If someone had asked her two years ago if she thought she’d be raising an alpha werewolf, she would have told them they were stupid.   
  
Michael wrapped an arm around her. “They really did. I hate it.” He said gruffly.   
  
“All we can do now is keep trying to guide them. Keep trying to protect them.” And hope that maybe once in awhile they would listen.   
  
Michael nodded as he rubbed her back. He was silent for several minutes just trying to digest everything. He glanced at her and swallowed hard. “Did you want to stay here?” He asked, “Or you can obviously stay in the guest room. I know Lydia’s stuff is in there now but I have a feeling I should prepare myself for that room not to be used as much as I’d like it to be,” he said trying to lighten the mood. The truth was he didn’t particularly want to be alone. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep after what he just saw.   
  
“Why don’t we take a page from the kids’ book and try to watch a movie?” she suggested quietly, nodding toward the television on his nightstand. There was no way she was going to be able to fall asleep easily tonight. Not after seeing that video. Not until she knew that Stiles was okay. But she knew neither of them wanted to wake him from the group to pull him away and ask him.   
  
He nodded, “That’s a good idea.” He said standing and moving over to grab the remote. He turned back around and hesitated, “You can make yourself comfortable,” he told her as he took off his shoes and moved to the head of the bed. “I usually lay on left is that, okay?” He asked while turning on the television.   
  
She slipped her shoes off, too, setting Stiles’ old phone back on top of Michael’s dresser before moving to the right side of the bed. “Of course,” she assured him.   
  
Michael smiled and climbed onto the bed flipping through the channels until he found a movie. “I think this might be one of the only things on,” he said lightly as he shifted on the bed.   
  
“Casablanca.” She smiled faintly, lying down beside him and looking at the TV. “I approve.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly before resting her head on the pillow.   
  
Michael glanced at her and smiled letting himself lay down beside her. He rested a hand on her arm, his gaze on the television. “I’m glad.” He said quietly.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**   
  
Scott was startled awake by a sharp surge of fear. His eyes flew open and he stilled momentarily confusion crossing his face as he tried to get his bearings. He was warm and when he glanced down at his chest he spotted Kira curled up between him and the couch. His body relaxed and a light smile pulled at his lips. When he felt the familiar stirrings of fear again he frowned and shifted carefully to glance at Stiles, which was hard because his best friend was lying against his back.   
  
Scott paused, took a deep breath and then shifted in one quick movement bringing a pillow beneath Kira’s head and Stiles body. He stood in front of the couch now, his feet just missing stepping on Allison and Isaac. Scott let out a breath and glanced at his best friend, but when he noticed Stiles sleeping peacefully he frowned. If the feeling wasn’t coming from him...Scott’s gaze shifted to Lydia and he saw her brow crease.   
  
He moved back and then around the couch, briefly placing his hand gently on her arm even as Stiles shifted pulling her closer. He waited a minute and when the frown marring her face ebbed away and she sighed he pulled his hand back and glanced at the clock. He groaned, it was early. Just after seven and not even a school day.   
  
Scott walked quietly out of the living room making sure not to wake anyone and moved down the hallway and into the kitchen. He was in the process of rubbing his sleep mussed hair when he spotted his Mom and the sheriff at the kitchen table. He let out a yawn and sent them half a smile. “You guys are up early,” he commented noticing something off in their expressions, “What’s up?”   
  
“Hi, Sweetheart. Sit down,” Melissa said very softly, not wanting to wake the other sleeping teens. She motioned to the chair across from where she sat with Michael. “How did you sleep?” she asked gently.   
  
Scott glanced between them hesitating for a minute before stepping forward and pulling out the chair across from them. He sat down and cocked his head to the side, “Uh, I slept okay...what’s going on?” He asked again.   
  
Michael glanced at Melissa before looking at Scott. He swallowed hard, “We wanted to talk to you.” He said keeping his tone light.   
  
Melissa reached out and laid a hand on Scott’s arm. “Scott, we found some videos on Stiles’ old phone that…” She glanced at Michael sideways and then back at her son. “Well they caused us some concern.”   
  
Scott’s body tensed, his eyes flickering between them, “What kind of videos?” He asked hesitantly, although he was starting to think maybe he knew what kind.   
  
Michael pursed his lips, his chest tightening, “Videos from when he was...inhabited by the Nogitsune that implied he wouldn’t be coming back,” he told Scott letting his voice trail off. He was silent for a minute as he studied Scott. “Did you know about them?” He asked quietly.   
  
Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No,” he said immediately and that was the truth. He hadn’t known about any videos. But that didn’t mean he had forgotten what happened the night he and Derek found Stiles. Scott had just been hoping he’d never have to share that information with anyone, especially their parents.   
  
Melissa sighed softly, nodding. “Okay, Sweetheart. We’re just...worried. How do you think Stiles is doing?”   
  
“I think he’s doing a lot better than he was that night,” Scott said quietly. He hesitated, “Guys, Stiles is going to be okay now. I know it’s going to take time and everything isn’t back to normal and it probably won’t be again, but,” Scott paused glancing down at the table briefly, “you need to know he thought he was protecting us. Stiles doesn’t have some kind of… _death wish_.” He said his voice hushed.   
  
“He thought it was the only way to protect us from that thing inside of him. That night,” a pained expression crossed Scott’s face, “That night all of us were prepared to do things we wouldn’t normally have done.” He let out a breath. “I probably owe Mr. Argent an apology for my behavior...for the things I said, what I could have done.” He whispered. His hands curled into fists against his pants.   
  
“We were all a little out of our minds...I mean for god’s sake Lydia electrocuted herself and Stiles…” He shook his head still not sure how he hadn’t seen that coming until the last few seconds. “It wasn’t a good night for any of us, but we’re all going to be okay now...I promise.”   
  
Melissa rose to her feet and moved around to where Scott was sitting, wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “That you have to deal with _so_ much.” She closed her eyes tightly.   
  
The tension in Scott’s body drained and he wrapped his arms around his Mom. “It’s okay. We take care of each other Mom. I’ve got a lot on my plate, but I’ve got people who would die for me watching my back...and vice versa,” he said as he felt a hand gripping his shoulder loosely. He tilted his head to the side catching sight of the sheriff beside him. He leaned into both adults taking one hand off of his Mom and placing it on the sheriffs back.   
  
Michael’s chest was tight as he looked down at Scott. “You know we love you right? All of you...and we’ll always be here if you need anything.” He told Scott making sure he understood his words.   
  
Scott could feel his eyes start to burn and he swallowed heavily nodding. “I know.”   
  
“We’ll take care of you. We’ll all take care of each other.” She rubbed Scott’s back gently, looking at Michael with sad eyes. Because that was what family did. Always.   
  
Scott stayed there with them for several minutes before shifting back and glancing up at them with half a smile. “You guys sure know how to throw a conversation at a person early in the morning,” he joked trying to lighten the mood.   
  
Melissa smiled faintly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. If they never had to repeat this kind of conversation again, she would be more than okay with that. She looked at the sheriff and exhaled. “Why don’t I start some breakfast for the very large pack of teenagers sleeping in the living room?” she suggested. “Honey, you can set the table,” she told Scott.   
  
Scott stood and nodded, “Sure,” he smiled at the sheriff, “Want to help me?” He asked.   
  
Michael nodded, “I’ll grab some glasses and forks, you get the plates and napkins,” he said with a smile as he moved around the kitchen, feeling slightly better than he had earlier, but still worried. Michael wasn’t sure the worry would ever go away with the life their kids lead.   
  
It didn’t take long before Stiles began to wake up, the smell of pancakes rousing him from his slumber. He groaned slightly, burying his face in Lydia’s neck and wondering why his left arm was numb. Opening his eyes, he squinted against the sunlight filtering into the room and turned to see that Kira’s head was lying on his arm as she slept. He blinked a couple of times, confused at first and then spotted Allison and Isaac draped over his legs on the floor. But something was missing.   
  
Scott. Scott wasn’t there.   
  
He was instantly awake, sitting up as fear flashed through him. “Scott?”   
  
Scott glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Stiles’ voice and elevated heartbeat. He moved out of the kitchen and down the hall poking his head into the living room. Half a smile pulled at his lips, “You rang?” He asked his tone calm.   
  
He blew out a breath, relaxing instantly and nodding. “Just...checking. Sorry.” He watched as Kira began to stir beside him lifting her head up off the pillow and his arm.   
  
“What time is it?” she mumbled sleepily, pushing some hair off her face.   
  
Worry sparked inside of Scott, but he glanced away from Stiles and over at Kira his face softening as he stepped further into the room. “Early, just about eight,” he answered before pausing in front of Kira and Stiles.   
  
“But...it’s Saturday.” Kira frowned, looking totally disoriented. “Why am I awake?”   
  
“Sorry. Sorry, my fault,” Stiles told her with a faint smile, voice hushed.   
  
“Is everything okay?” She sat up a little more, raking a hand through her hair to try and make it less of a mess.   
  
“Yeah. I think so. Everything’s fine, right?” Stiles looked up at Scott and then down at Lydia.   
  
Scott nodded, “Everything’s fine. I just...woke up early and I went inside to help our parents with breakfast,” he said not wanting to bother Stiles with the details. He reached out to Kira and squeezed her arm gently. “You can go back to bed if you want. I’ll come get you when breakfast is ready,” he said softly before turning to Stiles and patted his friend’s leg in reassurance.   
  
“No, I should get up. I mean if breakfast is...I should help.” She yawned and sat up the rest of the way, covering her mouth as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.   
  
Scott chuckled. “Okay, let’s let Isaac, Allison and Lydia get some rest.” He said softly holding out a hand to Kira as he glanced over at Stiles’ watching his friend closely for a minute. “You okay, Dude?”   
  
“Yeah.” Stiles yawned, too, rising to his feet after carefully shifting Lydia onto the pillow. “I’m okay.”   
  
Scott nodded with a smile, his gaze shifting to Lydia briefly listening for her heartbeat and when he heard it was calm glancing back to Stiles. “We were just setting the table,” he explained, “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starving.” Which wasn’t unusual.   
  
“When are you not starving, dude?” he joked, clapping his hand on Scott’s back as they made their way toward the kitchen.   
  
Michael glanced up when his son, Scott and Kira entered the kitchen. He swallowed hard and smiled, “Morning kids,” he said while placing a carton of juice and milk on the table. “Did you sleep okay?” He asked.   
  
“Yeah. Except now I have the world’s worst neck ache,” Stiles complained, picking up a glass of juice and taking a drink.   
  
Scott patted Stiles’ back, “You’ll be okay,” he said with a grin before pulling out a chair and glancing at Kira, “Juice or milk?” He asked with a smile.   
  
“Gee, thanks, friend,” Stiles said wryly, giving him a look before sitting down.   
  
“Milk, please,” Kira requested with a soft smile.   
  
Scott poured her some as Michael glanced at his son again not able to keep his eyes from straying to him. Not able to stop seeing the video he and Melissa watched last night. Michael held in a sigh and turned to Melissa walking over to the stove. He placed a hand at the small of her back, “Do you need help with anything?” He asked quietly.   
  
Melissa looked back at him, concern in her eyes. “Why don’t you talk to Stiles?” she asked softly. “I’ve got breakfast covered.”   
  
Michael hesitated and then nodded. He turned away from Melissa and walked back over to the table. He stood there for a moment before clearing his throat, “Stiles, can I talk to you for a minute son?”   
  
Stiles glanced up. “Yeah, sure.” His eyebrows furrowed a little and he rose to his feet.   
  
Michael motioned for Stiles to follow him as he headed for the stairs. Now that he knew the truth he knew he had to tell his son so they could talk. But he didn’t want to do it in front of everyone. Plus he wanted to give his son back his phone.   
  
Stiles followed him up the stairs and into his dad’s bedroom, feeling a little uneasy. “Is everything okay?” he asked quietly.   
  
Michael turned to face his son once they were in his room. “Yeah, everything’s okay now...At least I think it is.” He was quiet for a minute before turning to his dresser and lifting the phone off of it. He shifted back to Stiles and held out the phone. “I think you lost this…” he said letting his voice trail off.   
  
Stiles stared at the phone for a moment, stomach tightening. “Oh.” He swallowed hard, reaching out and taking it from his dad. “Yeah, I guess I did.”   
  
Michael watched Stiles for a minute, “I saw it.” He said quietly, not entirely sure what else to say.   
  
Stiles flinched involuntarily even though he’d half-suspected it was coming. His face paled and he looked up at his dad. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.   
  
Michael took a step forward resting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Stiles...Do you, I mean,” he swallowed hard, “Do you still feel that way?” He asked quietly, “Do I need to be worried?” Michael would worry regardless, but he and Melissa barely got any sleep last night after watching that video and even with Scott’s reassurances he needed to hear it from his son.   
  
Guilt swept over him. “Dad. God. No. No, I don’t.” He dropped his phone down onto the bed and wrapped his arms around his dad as tightly as he could. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He swallowed heavily.   
  
Michael lifted his arms around his son and held onto him tightly. “We were just really worried.” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t tell me something. Or Melissa,” he added pulling back enough to grip his son’s face gently and meet his gaze. “We’re here always no matter how you’re feeling. We love you and we just want you to be okay.”   
  
His eyes watered and he blinked rapidly, nodding. “Dad, I know. It’s not...I just -- I didn’t want to hurt anyone else and I didn’t know how to _stop_. It was the only thing I could think to do.”   
  
Michael nodded. Scott had explained as much, but he needed to hear it from Stiles. “Okay,” he told his son quietly. “As long as you’re sure everything is okay now. I just...I needed to check in and make sure.” He added. Michael patted his son on the shoulder and sent him half a smile. “We’re gonna be okay.”   
  
“I love you,” he said quietly. “You know that, right?” His expression was sad. “And the stuff that happened, Dad if...I had hurt you in any way, I wouldn’t have been able to live with that.”   
  
Michael sighed, “I know you love me, but I don’t want to hear any of this nonsense about not living with things you hear me?” He asked not giving him a chance to answer, “You fought that thing and you’re okay now. You’re safe, we’re safe, and we’ve got your back.” He patted his son’s cheek. “Nothing else matters.”   
  
Stiles swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. You’re right. That’s over now,” he said quietly.   
  
Michael nodded, “It is. Now we just...pick up the pieces,” he said pulling Stiles into another hug. “Sorry to throw this on you so early,” he said keeping his voice light. “I don’t want there to be anymore secrets between us anymore. We’re family...all of us.”   
  
“I know.” He hugged his dad again just as tightly as before.   
  
Michael patted his son on the back, “Okay,” he pulled back and smiled, “That’s enough of that for the morning. We should go down and eat; Melissa made a whole bunch of food.” He said while guiding his son towards the door.   
  
“And everything smells really good,” he answered as he let his dad lead him out of the bedroom and down the stairs.   
  
Michael spotted Scott near the bottom of the steps and he arched an eyebrow. “Everything okay?” He asked as he stepped off the last stair.   
  
Scott nodded as he glanced at Stiles, “Yeah, you guys good?” He asked pausing on his way to the living room and glancing between them. He’d felt some guilt coming from Stiles and another strange emotional flux, but he seemed okay at the moment.   
  
Stiles draped his arm around Scott’s neck. “Get me pancakes, dude. I’m starving.”   
  
Scott chuckled and patted his friend’s chest. “Will do, give me one sec okay? I’m just gonna go wake Lydia up real quick. Don’t start breakfast without me.” He said sternly to Stiles with a grin as he watched the sheriff smile at them and then head back into the kitchen.   
  
“Hurry uppp,” Stiles whined dramatically as he followed his dad into the kitchen.   
  
Scott grinned at his friend’s back shaking his head before moving into the living room. He stepped carefully around Isaac and Allison, not sure how those two were still sleeping. Scott could see the frown back on Lydia’s face and he reached out and shook her lightly. “Lydia wake up,” he whispered his voice firm.   
  
When she didn’t right away he leaned forward, “Wake up,” he whispered loudly near her ear not wanting to wake up Allison or Isaac.   
  
Lydia’s eyes popped open, her heartbeat slamming against her chest as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. “Scott?” She started to sit up, “What’s wrong?”   
  
He arched an eyebrow, “I think you were having a nightmare or something,” he said confused by her confusion. He was pretty sure it was her jolt of fear that had woken him up that morning. He was feeling her more strongly now, which meant they needed to talk to Deaton soon so they could figure this whole thing out.   
  
Lydia rubbed her face, “I don’t remember,” she said as she leaned forward. She glanced around, “Where’s-”   
  
“Kitchen,” Scott said before she could finish her question. “Come on,” he held out a hand to her, “Breakfast is waiting.”   
  
Lydia took his hand and let Scott pull her from the couch. He tugged her towards the kitchen, hoping they’d waited for him to eat.   
  
Stiles looked up as soon as they entered the room, feeling Lydia’s confusion and fear and meeting her eyes. “Morning,” he greeted, holding his breath.   
  
Melissa looked from Stiles to Scott and Lydia. “Morning, Lydia,” she greeted, as well, a soft smile on her face.   
  
Lydia squeezed Scott’s hand lightly letting him know she was okay before releasing it. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t remember whatever nightmare she was apparently having, but Lydia was glad. She came over to the table and sat down on one side of Stiles as Scott sat on the other. “Morning,” she murmured before her gaze shifted to Scott’s Mom. “Morning Ms. McCall.”   
  
Scott immediately reached for the pancakes sending half a grin to Kira and then Stiles. “Smells good.”   
  
“Yeah it definitely does,” Stiles agreed, glancing at Melissa with a soft smile. Wordlessly, he reached out and slid his fingers through Lydia’s under the table. Then he glanced at Scott and his dad.   
  
He could hear footsteps approaching and he realized that Allison and Isaac had also apparently woken up. He shot them a grin. “Good thing you woke up. There wasn’t going to be any left,” he joked.   
  
Isaac lifted his head sniffing the air. “Ms. McCall makes the best food,” he said with a delighted grin. “I miss waking up to your food,” he admitted as he pulled out the chair next to Lydia for Allison.   
  
Scott chuckled and Michael just grinned.   
  
“Yeah, she does,” Stiles agreed, nodding. She’d also been the one to teach _him_ a lot of what he knew about cooking. The things he’d been too young to pick up from his mom before she died.   
  
“Well it definitely smells amazing,” Allison commented, tucking some hair behind her ear.   
  
“I’ve gained so much weight since being here,” Lydia said with a sigh, but there was a grin on her face.   
  
Isaac snorted. “Yes, you look incredibly huge,” he said with a playful roll of his eyes as he reached for the pancakes before they were all gone.   
  
Scott smirked and patted his stomach, “I can eat as much as I want, werewolf metabolism.”   
  
Michael shook his head, “I shouldn’t hear any complaining, until you get to be my age when metabolism is a thing of the past.”   
  
Stiles rolled his eyes at all of them. “Metabolism isn’t ever a thing of the past or your body wouldn’t keep functioning, Dad,” he responded, giving him a look.   
  
Allison chuckled lightly as she reached for the syrup and then scooted it over to Isaac.   
  
Melissa glanced toward the stove. “I can always make more,” she told everyone.   
  
Isaac and Scott grunted at the same time and then glanced at each other. Scott grinned, “You’re the best Mom.”   
  
He lifted the last pancake and set it on Kira’s plate replacing the small one she’d just eaten. “You can have the last one,” he said softly with a small grin.   
  
Lydia watched them and she had to bite back a smile. Scott had it bad and yeah okay, maybe it was kind of adorable. She squeezed Stiles hand gently before pulling a bite of pancake into her mouth.   
  
“Thank you,” Kira told him, ducking her head a little as she smiled.   
  
Even Stiles thought his best friend and Kira were adorable. He wanted to roll his eyes at himself but he glanced at Lydia sideways with a knowing look instead.   
  
Michael leaned back in his seat watching as the kids talked and laughed. Seeing them all together like this eased the worry in his mind. He was pretty sure things were finally starting to calm down and really he couldn’t be happier about it. They all needed a break.   


______

  
  
Lydia parked her car, pulled the keys out of the ignition and tossed them into her purse. She pulled her bag over her shoulder and pushed the car door open stepping out into the warm afternoon air. Lydia shut the door a light breeze blowing through material of her purple dress. She pushed her braided hair aside and started towards the building in front of her.   
  
It didn’t take her long to make it up to Derek’s loft apartment and she wondered briefly if maybe she should have called. They had texted several times over the past week and half, but she hadn’t seen him since he helped Isaac and Scott move her stuff into the Stilinski house. Lydia figured since Scott and Stiles were spending some quality time together because he and Ms. McCall were heading back home later that night, she’d check in and see how Derek was doing.   
  
Lydia paused in front of the loft door and reached out knocking lightly hoping Cora was out and about elsewhere.   
  
Derek heard her footsteps and then the sound of her heartbeat before she ever knocked on the door, so when she did, he opened it almost immediately. “Lydia,” he greeted, stepping aside to let her in. “You’re here early today. Everything okay?” he asked, shutting the door behind her once she was inside. He turned to face her.   
  
Lydia nodded, “Yeah,” she responded twisting her hands together as she glanced around, “I just wanted to see how you were. You know this is my second favorite place to be,” she teased lightly with a friendly smile. “I didn’t interrupt anything did I?” Lydia asked curiously her gaze drifting back to Derek.   
  
Derek studied her for a moment, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “If that’s your way of asking if Cora’s here, the answer’s no. You’re in the clear.” He motioned her toward the sofa. “You want something to drink?” he offered.   
  
Lydia grinned, “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she told him, humor dancing in her eyes. “Sure, water would be good.” She turned and walked over to the couch setting her purse down beside her as she watched him from across the room. “Ms. McCall asked about you the other day,” she stated, “There’s been a lack of your presence around, not feeling sociable?” She inquired, “Or busy with that handful of a sister?” She asked with a smirk.   
  
Derek shook his head as he moved toward the kitchen retrieving a bottle of water from the fridge for her. “Cora’s…a handful,” he admitted. “She’s also going to be in school with you as of next week, which she’s not very happy about.” He kind of doubted Lydia would be much happier about it than Cora, really. He handed her the bottle of water before sitting down beside her.   
  
Lydia took the water he offered and sighed. “Why don’t you like me?” She asked dramatically. “Stiles is going to want her to sit with us at lunch.” She told him with a flutter of her eyes. “Have I mentioned that I’m not the best at sharing?” She asked, “Because I’m not.” Lydia reminded Derek as she opened the bottle of water and took a short sip. Lydia was mostly just giving Derek a hard time. Sure she didn’t exactly enjoy Cora’s company, but if she was going to be staying in town obviously school was important.   
  
Derek arched an eyebrow. “Pretty sure you don’t have to worry about that. Because Stiles _assured_ me that he and Cora were _just_ friends. And it’s going to stay that way.”   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Of course it is,” she said her eyes turning to slits, “Stiles is not on the market right now, he’s got other things going on.” She said simply as she picked at the label on the water bottle.   
  
Derek suppressed a smirk. “Pretty sure Stiles is never going to be _on_ the market at all.” He watched her pick at the label and arched an eyebrow. “So how are things going over at Casa Stilinski?”   
  
Lydia shrugged. “They’re okay. Scott’s heading home today,” she said keeping her tone light. “So I thought I’d give the boys some time to themselves, you know how co-dependent they are” she joked, “It will probably be weird without him there...and Ms. McCall.” Her brows drew together. “Just me and the Stilinski’s…” Lydia pursed her lips. “Not that that’s bad.” She quickly added.   
  
Derek watched her for a moment. “They’ve been there since you have so it’ll probably be an adjustment.” He wondered how she felt about being there without Scott or Melissa around, though. “Are you nervous?”   
  
Lydia glanced up at Derek and made a noncommittal noise. She hesitated, “A little. Things are going to change now that Scott’s not going to be there. Plus,” she paused and straightened up. “Well,” she huffed at herself, “I’m going to be the only girl and while really it’s not that big of a deal it’s still a little odd to wrap my head around I suppose.”   
  
Derek tried not to smile at her comment. “I’m sure it is,” he agreed, nodding.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Stop mocking me,” she said pointing at him. “You know maybe I’m just complaining because I don’t want to sleep all alone in the guest room.” She said with a grin as she tapped her nails against the water bottle. Lydia bit her bottom lip, glancing sideways at Derek. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.” She said lightly as she angled her body in his direction.   
  
Somehow he doubted she’d have to be using the guest room very much, but he didn’t say so. “You have the floor,” he informed her, raising his eyebrows with curiosity.   
  
“Um,” Lydia paused practically rolling her eyes at herself. Since when was she so unsure and timid? She crossed her legs and rested her hands on her knee. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in teaching me some self-defense. You know so I can protect myself.” Lydia stated tilting her head to the side.   
  
“I assumed that’s what you meant,” he said, mildly amused, but also slightly surprised that she’d come to _him_ for that. “You want me to train you?”   
  
Lydia heard the mild surprise in his voice and she smiled. “Yeah. I trust _you_.” She said simply, “Scott is still kind of trying to find his way around the whole Alpha thing, I wouldn’t be surprised if he came to you for help too,” she told him with a slight grin, “And Stiles...well I’m not actually sure he knows much about self-defense,” she said with an affectionate laugh. “Plus even if he did somehow I feel like that wouldn’t be a good idea. And,” Lydia hesitated and shrugged to make her words less of a big deal, “I feel safe with you.”   
  
It was true, Lydia had trust issues, but really who could blame her? While she trusted all of her friends there were three people she trusted with her life above all else and that list consisted of Stiles, Derek, and Scott.   
  
People trusting him and actually looking to him for help was still something kind of new for Derek. Yeah, he’d turned Erica and Boyd and Isaac and all of them had looked to him for help and he’d failed spectacularly. He knew his own shortcomings very well. And considering he’d once tried to have her killed, he felt both guilty and yet touched that she was reaching out for his help.   
  
“Yeah. I don’t think Stiles will be much help in the self-defense department,” Derek said wryly. “But I can help you out.”   
  
Lydia tilted her head catching a spark of guilt in his gaze, she was getting good at weeding out that particular emotion because of Stiles, it left quickly, but she’d still seen it. She reached out and rested a hand hesitantly on Derek’s arm knowing he wasn’t much for physical contact. “Thank you,” she said softly.   
  
“You’re a hard guy to read,” Lydia commented casually, “But for what it’s worth we’ve all done some pretty shitty things, but you’ve come a long way and I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me...Keeping me safe, but most of all for keeping Stiles safe because,” Lydia paused swallowing hard, “I’m not really sure what I would have done if things had turned out differently.” She admitted very quietly.   
  
“Lydia.” He reached out and put a hand on her arm this time. “I know.”   
  
Lydia sent him half a smile, “Yes...everyone seems to know,” she joked softly, “Well almost everyone.” She had pretty much stopped denying what she felt for Stiles, but she hadn’t actually come out and admitted them. Lydia wasn’t sure when or if she’d be ready to do that anytime soon.   
  
Lydia took a deep breath. “This is good, I’m going to have to buy a workout outfit,” she commented bringing the conversation back to something a little more light. “What would you suggest maybe some yoga pants and a red sports bra, oh or possibly green. I look nice in green,” she added.   
  
Derek laughed. “Lydia, this isn’t just an excuse for you to buy new clothes, is it? Because I don’t think you actually have to have an excuse for that. For the record.”   
  
Lydia rolled her eyes, “No that’s just a perk. This is so I can stop being a liability to everyone I care about.” She said, “Plus I’m tired of people always thinking I’m some weak girl. Look at Allison, she’s a girl and she kicks ass.” Lydia motioned to herself, “I can kick ass too.” She explained. “Besides...I think it will help me,” she pursed her lips hating what she was about to admit, “Be a little less afraid.”   
  
Derek sobered at that admission. “Then we’ll get started tomorrow,” he said sincerely.   
  
Lydia smiled, “I knew you were the right guy for the job.” She told him lightly. “Let’s just keep the last part between us okay?” She asked. “Stiles has already paid your Uncle one visit, I’d like to keep him from going back.” Lydia explained with a sigh. Despite the fact that it meant the world to her that Stiles was looking out for her, she didn’t want to see him get hurt.   
  
“Wait. What?” Derek frowned, cocking his head and staring at Lydia.   
  
Lydia opened her mouth and closed it. She sighed, maybe that hadn’t been the best thing to mention, then again this sort of involved Derek too so she supposed he had a right to know. “Peter was in my head not long ago...I thought they were nightmares,” Lydia moistened her lips, “But Stiles was convinced it was more than that so, he went to go see Peter.” She explained. “Stiles is worried...He said Peter wants something from me, but he’s not sure what.” She told him choosing her words carefully.   
  
“I think we have a pretty good idea of what it is that Peter wants from you.” He pursed his lips for a moment, then sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Still. Stiles wasn’t very smart going to Peter alone. He should have known better.”   
  
“We do,” Lydia conceded. She watched Derek for a minute, “I told Stiles that...something’s different about him though,” she hesitated, “He’s not the same in certain ways. I made him promise not to do anything like that again.” She explained before reaching out and giving his knee a light squeeze.   
  
“Hey, you know that Peter isn’t going to get what he wants right?” She angled her head to the side, “I won’t betray you. I know that in the past people have, but you can trust me Derek. I will guard this truth with my life.” She wouldn’t let Peter ruin the little bit of family he had left. Lydia might not like Cora, but no one deserved that kind of information.   
  
“He is different,” Derek agreed quietly. And he wasn’t sure it was a good thing. What the Nogitsune had done to Stiles hadn’t been his fault. The deaths he’d caused couldn’t rationally be blamed on Stiles even if Stiles blamed himself. But having blood on your hands -- intentionally or not -- changed you in a way that nothing else could. So yes. Stiles had changed.   
  
“I know, Lydia. I trust you.” His voice was quiet. “But if Peter’s trying to use his connection to you to get inside your head, we need to figure out how to stop that from happening.”   
  
Lydia smiled, “Stiles actually kicked him out of my head somehow,” she said while shifting on the couch. “He seems pretty determined to break whatever weird connection I have with Peter. I trust him. We’ll figure it out and until then my awesome new trainer is going to teach me how to stave off some bad werewolves until _my_ wolves come to kick their butts.” Lydia told him with a grin.   
  
“Oh, your werewolves.” Derek smirked. “Got it.” He shook his head. “And Stiles kicked Peter out of your head? Does he have any idea how he managed to do that?” All of the emissary stuff was still somewhat foreign to Derek.   
  
Lydia grinned and nodded before shaking her head at the second part of his question, “No. But we think it’s the connection between us so I told Stiles instead of fighting it we should embrace it and make a connection.” She explained with a slight shrug.   
  
“And it’s helped.” It wasn’t a question.   
  
Lydia sent Derek a thoughtful look as she uncrossed her legs and then recrossed them. “I think so I mean things seem clearer, like now for example” she was silent for a minute as she focused her thoughts and senses on Stiles, “He’s upset and amused.” Lydia said with a grin. “I can distinguish his emotions and sometimes I can actually feel him like his presence, but I feel like whatever connection we’re supposed to make isn’t finished yet. I know that sounds weird, but I still feel like he’s holding back.”   
  
“He’s upset _and_ amused? That’s kind of a strange combination of emotions to feel at the same time.” Then again, they were talking about _Stiles_ so he probably shouldn’t have been surprised. “Have you talked to him about it?”   
  
Lydia laughed softly, “He’s upset that Scott’s leaving,” She explained, “But I guess whatever they’re doing right now is fun?” She lifted a shoulder, “I don’t really know how it all works. I can’t tell what he’s doing.” Lydia considered Derek’s question, “No, honestly I’m not exactly sure how to bring it up without making it sound like some kind of accusation.”   
  
Lydia knew there were things Stiles didn’t want her to feel and the truth was there were probably some things she wanted to keep private too, which was most likely why they were both lacking on complete follow through. But Lydia also wasn’t exactly sure how they went about completing that connection. Did it just happen once they both were no longer holding anything back? Did they have to do something to make it happen? She just didn’t know.   
  
“I have a feeling you’ll figure it out,” he told her, patting her arm hesitantly.   
  
Lydia grinned, “Branching out with the physical contact,” she teased easing the conversation into more familiar territory, “I approve. Soon you’ll be giving hugs like a pro.” Lydia told him matter-of-factly. “Okay so now that we’ve got the serious stuff out of the way, let’s talk about how we’re going to spend the afternoon.” Lydia fluttered her lashes and gave Derek a cheeky smile, “How do you feel about flat screen TV’s because I’m thinking one would fit nicely on the wall...maybe a radio too, I mean do you even own any electronics that don’t go in the kitchen?” Lydia asked with a grin.   
  
“Electronics are overrated. I’m much more of a book kind of guy.” Derek pointed toward the bookshelves that he’d finished making that now sat in the corner of the room.   
  
Lydia glanced over to where he pointed surprise crossing her face. “Wow, that’s really nice.” She said with a smile before glancing back at Derek, “But it’s not going to entertain your guest’s silly.” Lydia’s smile brightened as she uncrossed her legs and stood. “Let’s go shopping, come on. You can’t stay cooped up in the loft all day it’s not healthy. Fresh air does the body good.”   
  
“I get plenty of fresh air,” he informed her even as he rose to his feet.   
  
“Uh huh,” she said while lifting her purse over her shoulder. “I’m going to let you drive, unless you’d like me to.” Lydia said over her shoulder already walking towards the door knowing Derek would follow.   
  
Derek simply shook his head in amusement.   


______

  
  
Stiles helped Scott carry the last box of his stuff to the car and set it on top of the vehicle. It was kind of ridiculous for him to feel as anxious about Scott and Melissa returning to their home as he felt. They only lived a few blocks away. It wasn’t like they weren’t ever going to see each other again. But he’d gotten used to having them there and Stiles wasn’t a huge fan of change. Still. He was seventeen. He was going to have to deal with it, whether he wanted to or not. He turned to Scott, looking at him silently for a moment. “So I guess this is it.”   
  
Scott sent Stiles half a smile despite the fact that he could feel not only his own anxiety, but his best friend’s. “I guess so,” he said quietly. He scratched the back of his neck, his chest tight. “You know you can always come over...and I can come here and if you need me all you have to do is call and I’ll be here in a couple of minutes,” he said moving his hands as he spoke.   
  
“I’ll just run right over. Wolf speed.” Scott whooshed his hand by mimicking what it would be like, he ran quickly. But even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t the same thing and that only served to make him tenser.   
  
“I know, Dude,” he said quietly, nodding. “Faster than a speeding bullet.” He smiled faintly even though it didn’t reach his eyes. He hesitated, watching Scott. “You’re picking up my whole...talking with your hands thing.” He wondered if that was part of the new connection they shared, or if it was something Scott had picked up before then and Stiles just hadn’t realized it until now.   
  
Scott glanced down, “Dude,” he huffed, “that’s all your fault.” But he didn’t seem overly mad by in. He slipped his hands into his pockets and watched his friend. “I can stay if you want me to,” he offered softly. “I don’t have to go home with Mom. Or like I said any time you need me to come back you just call and I’ll come. This isn’t going to change anything,” he said reaching out and gripping his best friend’s shoulder. It was definitely going to change some things. He had gotten used to being around Stiles and the Sheriff and even Lydia.   
  
Stiles grinned faintly at his accusation, knowing full well Scott wasn’t even really annoyed by the realization. “No. It’s okay. You and your mom probably need some time at your own house and everything. And like you said, you’re not that far away if something comes up.” He chewed his bottom lip for a minute. He hesitated a moment, then wrapped his arms around Scott tightly.   
  
Scott hugged him back immediately wrapping his arms tightly around his friend. “Dude, don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m really gonna miss you,” he said with a short laugh. “Maybe I can come back on weekends.” He offered as much for Stiles as for himself. It had been a really long time since Scott felt like he had this big full family until and the past couple of months...Well he’d gotten used to them being a family.   
  
“Pretty sure that can’t be taken the wrong way.” He shut his eyes and let out a breath, nodding at Scott’s suggestion about weekends. “Weekends are good. We can manage weekends. And you know, maybe occasional Wednesday nights.” Okay, maybe they were slightly co-dependent and maybe Stiles should have been more worried about it. But this was _Scott._ The rest didn’t really matter that much to him.   
  
“Some Tuesday’s too, you can’t leave Tuesday’s out they’ll feel bad,” Scott said patting his hand on Stiles back. “I’ll be over here all the time you know?” He asked, “Just cause I’m sleeping at home doesn’t mean I won’t be bugging you every day,” he told his best friend, the emotions swirling in his chest making it harder to be calm about everything. But Scott was going to have to learn how to not let the emotion get to him.   
  
Stiles smiled at that, nodding. “Of course. Second home, dude.” He reluctantly let him go, stepping back to look at him. “And you know. If you can’t sleep.” He pointed to his window. “It’ll be unlocked as always.” His chest felt tight, too, like if Scott left now he wasn’t going to see him again and it was a ridiculous thought because of _course_ he’d see him again. Tomorrow after school, no doubt.   
  
Scott nodded as he stepped back and glanced down sliding his hands back into his pockets for a minute before taking them out and sighing. “I know and you keep it open. And if you can’t sleep you can let me know and I’ll come.” Scott reached out again and placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder squeezing gently. “I love you, Dude.”   
  
“Of course. What’s not to love?” he joked, trying to break the nervousness that had settled upon both of them. It took him a moment to realize why this was a lot more difficult than it should be. Because the last time they’d actually been apart for any real length of time -- Stiles had been possessed. He held his breath for a minute, then exhaled. “I love you too, Scott.”   
  
Scot held Stiles’ gaze. “It’s going to be okay. You’re okay and I’m not far,” he said quietly. “Plus you’re not completely alone, you’ve got Lydia here. She’ll keep you in line for me,” he joked lightly trying to break the tension around them. Scott knew he and his Mom had to go home, he just wished it wasn’t so hard.   
  
Stiles chuckled. “Yeah, but who’s gonna keep _you_ in line for me?” he asked, raising his eyebrows and mock-punching him in the shoulder. He was quiet for a moment. “It’s not gonna happen again.”   
  
Scott nodded, “I know. I’m not worried,” he added. “We’re good.” He told Stiles with half a smile. Scott tilted his head to the side, “I can hear my Mom coming,” he said quietly, which meant they were getting ready to head out and for some reason Scott wanted to grab onto the small railing by the stairs outside and tell his Mom he refused to leave. But that would probably be pretty childish.   
  
Stiles relaxed a little at Scott’s quiet reassurance. “We could hide your shoes.” A smile tugged at his mouth at the memory of when he’d done that once, thinking that Scott wouldn’t have to leave if Stiles hid his shoes. Because he couldn’t leave without his shoes, right? They’d been six, and it had delayed Scott’s departure for about five minutes total until Scott’s dad had picked him up and declared that he had more shoes at home so it wasn’t a big deal.   
  
Scott chuckled, “We could, though it would probably turn out like last time minus my Mom attempting to carry me out of your house like he did.” He said scratching the back of his head, the thought of his dad making his chest tighten slightly. They hadn’t heard from him since he took off not that Scott had expected to. “So...I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asked as he heard the front door open hoping his Mom walked really really slow.   
  
Stiles reached out and put a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Only one losing out is him,” he said sincerely, voice growing quiet. Because sometimes he felt like he didn’t tell Scott enough just how great of a guy he was, and he really was. And screw his dad for not seeing it. “Yeah, definitely. You have to bring me my homework.” He smirked.   
  
Scott sent him a grateful look before making a face. “Oh I see how it is, you only want to see me so you can get your homework,” he joked. “Thanks, I’m feeling the love.” He told his friend with a grin.   
  
“Oh yes. I want you to bring me incredibly dull assignments,” he said solemnly, nodding. “It’s the highlight of my very existence.”   
  
Scott rolled his eyes at patted Stiles back. He glanced over to the door and spotted his Mom and the sheriff. He sighed. “She’s going to make me get in the car in a minute.”   
  
“Right. Okay. Well. Try not to have too much fun without me.” He smirked, but it was fainter this time.   
  
Scott saw that Stiles’ smile didn’t reach his eyes and he suddenly felt guilt for having to leave. He didn’t want to upset his best friend. “Mom I don’t feel good!” He called out, “Maybe we should stay one more night.” He placed a hand on his head. “I think I have a fever.”   
  
“Uh huh. I seem to remember this method in the past,” Melissa commented, draping an arm around her son’s shoulders. “Here’s your friendly mom reminder that werewolves A) don’t get sick and B) if you are, you wouldn’t want to get Stiles sick, right?” She gave him a knowing look.   
  
Scott opened his mouth, “Would you believe I’m not a werewolf? I just get really cranky when I’m hungry?” He asked turning his puppy eyes on her.   
  
Michael chuckled as he wrapped an arm around Stiles.   
  
“If that was true, you’d always be cranky,” she pointed out, patting his arm. “And I’m immune to the puppy eyes.”   
  
“No one is immune to the puppy eyes, Ms. M. Statistical fact,” Stiles informed her, leaning against his dad.   
  
Scott huffed, “I think it’s supposed to rain...we probably shouldn’t be on the road,” he said despite the fact that the sun was just beginning to set and the sky was clear. Scott scratched the back of his neck. “Oh Lydia’s not back yet we can’t leave without saying goodbye, darn...I guess we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to head home.” He said in mock sadness. Okay, so he was reaching, but his best friend looked sad and anxious and Scott didn’t want to leave him like that even though he knew he needed to.   
  
Melissa kissed Scott’s head and patted his back. “I’ll be in the car.” She stepped forward, gathering Stiles in a hug. “We really don’t have to go if you’re not ready,” she whispered. “You know that, right?”   
  
He closed his eyes, hugging her back. “I know. Thanks. For everything.”   
  
Melissa pressed a kiss to the side of his head and then stepped back glancing at Michael and resting her hand on his arm squeezing it gently before walking around them to the car.   
  
Scott watched her go and his shoulders slumped. “Okay...so I’ll stop by tomorrow after school,” he said even though he knew he already told Stiles that.   
  
Michael reached out and pulled Scott into a quick hug patting him on the back. “We’ll be fine,” he said, “See you tomorrow,” he said with a smile.   
  
Scott stepped back and nodded glancing back at Stiles. “I’ll text you when I get home.”   
  
“It’s gonna be fine,” Stiles said quietly, meeting Scott’s eyes and then hugging him quickly. “I’ll be fine.”   
  
Scott nodded, “What about me?” He joked though he wasn’t exactly joking. He shook his head. “I know,” he said again before reaching out and squeezing Stiles’ shoulder one last time before getting in the car. Scott buckled up, swallowed hard, and let out a short breath trying to release some of the anxiety he was feeling as his Mom started the car.   
  
Stiles’ chest tightened at Scott’s words and he turned, watching him climb into the passenger seat of Ms. McCall’s car. He lifted his hand in a wave, then chewing on his thumbnail as they drove away. He forced himself to take a deep breath and look up at his dad, who was watching him with easily read worry in his eyes. “I’m okay, Dad.”   
  
He wrapped his arm around his son and stood there quietly for a minute, “I was thinking of inviting Melissa and Scott over on Friday for a family dinner...you good with that?” he asked keeping his tone light. He was worried about his son, but he was also going to miss having them around. He was going to miss a lot of things.   
  
“Yeah, definitely. I’ll even cook.” Stiles exhaled. “Thanks for letting Lydia stay.”   
  
Michael glanced at his son and nodded. “Well we can’t very well leave her all alone, can we?” He asked guiding his son back towards the house.   
  
“No,” he agreed, following his dad back inside, and glancing back over his shoulder toward the direction the McCall’s car had vanished from sight. _I really am codependent,_ he thought with a soft sigh.   
  
Michael patted his son’s shoulder. “It will be okay.” He said again, “Come on, want to watch something with me while I wait up for Lydia?” He asked with half a smile.   
  
“Yeah, sounds good.” His phone dinged, signaling he had a text message and Stiles pulled it out of his pocket. _[You have (3) new text messages.]_ He smirked at the sight of Scott’s name on the return address. He might be codependent, but at least he wasn’t alone.   


______

  
  
Lydia shifted on the mattress rolling from her stomach onto her back. She stared at the ceiling and huffed. Her head dropped to the side at the red numbers on the alarm clock. It was one thirty in the morning and she’d been trying to sleep for the past hour. Lydia moved again this time tossing the covers off herself. She was wearing a white tank top and a pair of Stiles’ boxers that she might have borrowed...and not given back.   
  
The room was dark and quiet and for some reason something kept drawing her gaze to the closet. _What are you afraid of a boogeyman popping out in the middle of the night?_ , she thought. This was ridiculous. She couldn’t sleep all alone in this scary, dark guestroom all by herself.   
  
Lydia got up, her bare feet hitting the floor. She hesitated for a second and then opened the guestroom door. She walked quietly towards Stiles’ bedroom. She noticed the door was partially open. Lydia bit her lower lip, pressed her palm flat against it and pushed it open. She stepped inside and closed it all the way softly behind her not sure if Stiles was asleep or not.   
  
Lydia walked across the room quickly and lifted the edge of the covers, crawling into Stiles’ bed a few seconds later attempting to be as quiet as she could.   
  
He lay awake in bed staring up at his ceiling blankly. He wasn’t really thinking about anything in particular like he did most nights. Tonight he just lay there quietly, mind tired but body not the least bit relaxed. He glanced at his nightstand where the alarm clock was, sighing when he realized there was still a long night ahead.   
  
He heard the floorboard creek and he propped himself up on his elbows, peering into the darkness. “Hey,” he whispered, shifting over so she could crawl under the blankets easier.   
  
Lydia sent him half a smile, “Hey...I couldn’t sleep.” She said softly. “Is it okay that I’m here?” She asked as she slid closer to his body reaching out for him.   
  
“Yeah, of course,” he assured her. His dad might not agree, but if neither of them was sleeping, he didn’t see the point of trying.   
  
Lydia curled against his side and rested her head against his chest. “It’s kind of scary in the guest room,” she whispered, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip to keep from smiling. Okay, so it wasn’t so much scary as she couldn’t seem to sleep without Stiles by her side.   
  
Stiles gently smoothed her hair down and out of her face, shifting over just a little closer to her. “It was scary in here, too.” He could also sense that Scott wasn’t having any better luck sleeping and that made him uneasy. He was pretty sure alpha werewolves needed a lot of sleep.   
  
Lydia leaned into his touch, “You could have come in the guest room,” she told him lightly not wanting him to think she was trying to distance herself from him. Lydia danced her fingers over his chest making small shapes there. “Can I tell you a secret?” She inquired eyebrow arched slightly.   
  
“Glad to know that’s an option.” He smiled faintly, thinking how strange it was that just a few months ago it was a miracle if she came by his house. Now she was actually _living_ there. “Yeah of course.” He cocked his head to look at her as best as he could, studying her in the semi-darkness.   
  
Lydia jammed him gently in the chest with her finger. “You’ve ruined my love of sleeping alone,” she told him sternly, but her voice was low and soft. “I used to love having my big bed all to myself and now,” she paused, “I can’t fall asleep without knowing you’re here.” Lydia admitted quietly. “And...I miss Scott.” she whispered.   
  
Stiles frowned a little, but then sighed. “Yeah, well. You’re not alone with that issue.” He rubbed his hand over her back, chest tightening with acknowledgment at her own sense of loss. Then he shifted, a tiny smile touching his mouth. “But the second problem is solved.” He glanced over toward the window right before Scott slid it open. He grinned.   
  
Scott grinned hearing them from outside the window. “I’m here,” he grunted as he climbed into Stiles’ room leaving the window open behind him. He kicked off his shoes before pulling off his t-shirt and tossing it on the floor leaving him in his undershirt. “I couldn’t sleep and I have school tomorrow.” He explained.   
  
He moved onto the bed and plopped down on his back next to Stiles. “Hey Dude,” he tilted his head, “Lydia,” he grinned.   
  
Lydia smirked. “You two are so co-dependent,” she said lightly even though she was a lot more relaxed now that Scott was back. He grounded Stiles and Stiles grounded her. At least that’s what it felt like.   
  
Stiles grinned back at his best friend, relaxing almost immediately between them. “I’m sorry, I think there are _three_ of us here,” he corrected Lydia. “And I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t sleeping.” He poked her lightly in the shoulder blade.   
  
Lydia huffed, but there was a smile on her lips. “Fine, I might be marginally attached.”   
  
Scott snorted, “You adore me. I’m the alpha,” he joked as she shifted and patted his hand against Stiles’ arm before reaching beneath the blanket so he could slid under it pausing when his hand hit a leg. “Dude, you’ve got some soft legs.”   
  
Lydia sighed, “That would be my leg,” she said amused, “But it’s good to know where you meant your hand to land,” she shook her head.   
  
Scott pinched her lightly pulling his hand back when she yelped. “It was an accident, I was trying to grab the covers and hit your leg. For a minute I thought I was going to have ask Stiles if he was playing truth or dare again, but without me this time,” referring to a time there might have been a dare to shave legs.   
  
“Marginally,” Stiles echoed, suppressing a laugh. Then he narrowed his eyes at Scott. “You really want to go there, dude? Considering the retaliatory dare I gave you that night?” He arched his eyebrows, smirking. “Let’s be honest, you just wanted to get away with copping a cheap feel because you missed us.” He paused. “Not that you’re a cheap feel.” He winced, glancing at Lydia. “I meant me. Definitely not you. I’m a cheap feel.” And he was babbling.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow and Scott was doing his best not to laugh at his best friend. “Lydia if it makes you feel any better I don’t think you’re a cheap feel,” He teased, “It’s actually really difficult to reach over Stiles to get to you, his body sort of forms this protective shield around you.”   
  
Lydia snorted. “You’re a bad best friend; you’re supposed to be helping your friend who thinks I’m cheap,” she joked, “Not make him look worse.” Lydia glanced at Stiles out of the corner of her eye. “If you think it’s so easy to cop a feel maybe I should go lay next to Scott,” she joked, her thumb brushing against his chest reassuringly, wanting him to know she was only teasing.   
  
Stiles resisted the urge to reach out and thump Scott in the arm. “The middle person forms the protective shield.” Actually he was pretty sure they were the ones who formed a protective shield around him as he slept because it seemed to be the only way that he _could_ sleep well.   
  
“Hey I’m not the one who was trying to cop a feel, it was Scott,” he protested even though he knew she was joking.   
  
Scott chuckled and Lydia couldn’t help the grin that pulled at her lips. She was glad Scott was back and Stiles seemed a lot more relaxed, which she was also happy about. “Mmm are we all done copping feels? Or do you need another minute or two to do that before we attempt to get some rest?” She asked amused.   
  
“Hey I’m not the one who was copping feels. I think we all need to cop feels just so this is an equal...partnership,” Stiles informed them, smirking.   
  
Scott smirked, “Dude, if you wanted to touch my arms all you had to do was ask man, you don’t have to make up equal partnerships excuses. I’ve been working out.” He lifted his arm and flexed. “Go ahead, cop a feel,” he said with a grin.   
  
Lydia reached over Stiles and poked Scott gently in the arm before shifting back against Stiles. “Eh, it’s okay.” She said biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.   
  
“Who said anything about your _arms_?” Stiles asked, arching his eyebrows and smirking at Lydia’s reaction. He reached out and squeezed Scott’s bicep. “Yep. You’re still totally the hot girl, Scott. Don’t worry.”   
  
Scott grinned brightly. “Thanks man.” He glanced at his arms, “I did...I think they’re my best feature, don’t you?” He asked curiously as if they had this conversation every day.   
  
Lydia sighed cutting off Stiles answer, “Why do you lie to him?” She asked lightly, “Scott I’m the hot girl considering I’m the only female here unless there’s something the two of you aren’t telling me,” she joked.   
  
“You’re both hot girls,” Stiles said easily, brushing his fingers through Lydia’s hair and turning his head to look at Scott, amusement on his face. “No reason to be jealous of each other. I love you both.” He didn’t even think about what he said.   
  
Lydia felt her heartbeat skip at Stiles’ admission realizing he probably hadn’t even realized he said it and if he did that it was most likely just the same way he loved Scott.   
  
Scott reached out and squeezed Stiles’ shoulder, “I love you too man, also I totally just copped a feel so we’re even,” he joked before resting his hands behind his head. A slow smirk sliding on his face, “And since we’re all equal opportunity here once you cop a feel of Lydia we can all finally sleep.” He said letting his eyes close, while he continued to smirk.   
  
Stiles snorted. “I have more respect for Lydia than I do for you,” he joked, smoothing his hand down her hair and letting his eyes drift shut.   
  
Lydia grinned as she settled against him, content.   
  
Scott rolled his eyes. “I’m going to bed,” he announced, “Some of us have school in the morning.” He said relaxing back against the bed and closing his eyes, a light smile on his face.   
  
“You’re _in_ bed, Dude,” Stiles said sleepily, laying his head against Lydia’s as he began to drift toward unconsciousness, more relaxed now that they were both there with him.   
  
Scott sighed, “I meant I’m going to sleep...shh,” he said amused as she shifted again getting comfortable. Hopefully his Mom wouldn’t worry too much when she woke up without him there in the morning.


	17. Chapter 17

Stiles really wasn’t sure why he’d decided to venture out of his house that day, or why he’d wound up sitting in his jeep outside of Derek Hale’s apartment building of all places, but it was where he found himself just past noon that day. He sat there for a long time, just letting the jeep’s engine run idle until he finally turned the key and shut off the engine. Then he blew out a breath. He tried to remember the last time he’d actually been there and realized he really didn’t know.   
  
Rubbing a hand over his face, he second guessed himself as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He wasn’t even sure that Derek was there. It wasn’t like he’d texted or called to check first. He’d just gotten in his jeep and driven there without intending to. His thumb hovered over Derek’s name on his contact list but before he could make a decision of whether to attempt calling him or texting him, there was a loud knock on the driver’s side window and he yelped, phone flying out of his hand and landing on the floorboards as he jerked his head over to see Derek standing there with raised eyebrows.   
  
He huffed out a breath, reaching down and rolling his window down. “Jesus Christ, Derek, wear a _bell._ ”   
  
Derek smirked, “Well the usual spasticness is back so I’m going to go ahead and say you’re on the mend,” he deadpanned before shifting back and crossing his arms over his chest. “Cora’s not here,” he commented lightly as he watched Stiles closely catching the quickened pace of the younger man’s heartbeat.   
  
Stiles rolled his eyes, giving him a dirty look and shaking his head. “I know that. Schools in session and I know you enrolled her so…” He pocketed his keys and reached down to grab his phone.   
  
Derek’s eyebrows rose, “Lydia?” He asked as he angled his head towards his apartment for Stiles to follow him and started walking away.   
  
He climbed out of his jeep, shutting the door and following Derek toward the building. “No. Cora texted me actually. I’m sure Lydia would have mentioned it eventually.”   
  
Derek nodded, “Ah,” he said as they walked up the stairs to his apartment, “Yes, I’m sure she would have mentioned it too...when you saw my sister at school.” He said amused while pulling his keys out of his pockets.   
  
Stiles rolled his eyes, following him silently until they reached the loft. He was more than a little out of breath by then. Stupid werewolves and their physical fitness crap. “Your apartment should be on the ground floor. You need to make that happen.”   
  
“You’re the only person who complains,” he commented as he unlocked the door and pulled it open, “Once you’re a 100 percent it won’t bother you anymore,” he added leaving the door to his apartment open for Stiles. “So, what brings you by?”   
  
“Yeah, well I’m the only one who’s not supernaturally inclined,” he said wryly, pausing just inside the loft and blinking as he looked around. He was so surprised by all the changes that had been made since the last time he’d been there that he completely missed Derek’s question. The loft actually looked like...a normal person’s apartment. It was bordering on _homey._   
  
Derek paused turning around when Stiles didn’t answer his question. He caught his expression and smirked. He reached up and scratched the back of his neck. “That’s right, you haven’t seen the place in a while,” he commented. “There have been some changes courtesy of the very insistent banshee in my life.” He grumbled with a sigh, but there was a hint of affection in his tone.   
  
Stiles looked back at him and then around at all the numerous changes. “Yeah, she...has that kind of effect on people.” He pursed his lips, still surprised. Honestly he was kind of surprised that Derek had allowed it to happen. Then again, Lydia wasn’t an easy person to say no to.   
  
Derek nodded, “She does. She’s,” he hesitated and glanced at Stiles debating whether or not he wanted to come off as some kind of softy. The other man wouldn’t likely let him live it down. Derek shrugged, “She’s like a beacon of light. Crazy as all hell...but she has a good heart.” He admitted before clearing his throat. “So, what brings you here?”   
  
He was tempted to make a remark to that effect, but he let this one slide. “Yeah. Yeah, she does,” he agreed softly. “Kind of always known that.” He let out a breath, shrugging. “I don’t know, really. I was bored, I guess. Tired of sitting at home.” Tired of sleeping. Tired of nightmares. Tired of _guilt._   
  
Derek angled his head to the side and studied Stiles for a minute before nodding. “Well, I don’t have any plans until later...so you’re welcome to hang around if you’d like. I have books,” he said reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck, “Oh and I have a TV.” he added as an afterthought almost forgetting. “You can watch something if you’d like.” Derek didn’t think Stiles came there to watch anything, but he didn’t want to push, plus he wasn’t exactly sure how the whole host thing worked.   
  
He relaxed a little, moving over to the couch and hesitating a second before sitting down on it. “I feel like all I’ve done is sleep and watch TV for weeks so...pass. I mean, unless you want to watch something. It’s your place.” He chewed his lower lip.   
  
“I don’t really watch TV,” he said as he followed Stiles and stood in front of him slipping his hands in his pockets. “It’s sort of big...and I’m not 100 percent sure how to turn it on,” he added. “It’s one of those all in one things...I don’t even know what that means.” He sighed and glanced at Stiles. “Something on your mind?” He could tell there was.   
  
“Probably means DVD, Netflix, and BlueRay built in. Maybe surround sound too,” he said automatically. “I can show you how to set it up and stuff if you want.” He shrugged, falling silent at his question.   
  
Derek shrugged, “If you want to...I was just going to let it sit there. You know in case anyone wanted to use it. Cora probably will,” he pondered before moving to the chair across from Stiles and sitting down. “But I don’t think you came here to talk about my lack of electronic experience,” he said trying again. “Is everything alright?”   
  
Stiles was silent for a long moment, twisting his fingers together nervously. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” he admitted almost inaudibly.   
  
Derek leaned forward resting his arms on his legs. “You’re going to have to give me a little more than that. You don’t know what you’re doing...in a general sense?” He couldn’t help if he didn’t understand. And if he was being honest, Derek wanted to help.   
  
Stiles let out a breath, rubbing his hands over his face and leaning forward, too. “I mean I don’t…” He paused. “I’m okay when Scott and Lydia are around. I mean it’s not...as bad. It’s bearable. And I feel them both. And they feel me and everything I do affects them now. I don’t know how to handle that. I don’t know what I’m doing; I don’t know how I’m supposed to…” He waved one hand vaguely in front of him. “Just keep going. After everything. I don’t know how to be myself anymore.”   
  
Derek was quiet for a minute. “The guilt,” he said quietly. “You don’t know how to handle the guilt.” He took a deep breath. “It’s not easy.” He admitted honestly.   
  
Stiles clasped his hands together over his knees, leaning his elbows on his thighs. “I killed people.” His voice was hushed. “A lot of people. And I almost killed Scott. Allison. _You._ Isaac. My _dad._ Derek, I almost killed my _dad._ ” His voice was strained. “And I see it all, all the time. It’s like an endless loop in my head. Just one terrible thing after another after another and I can’t make it stop.”   
  
Derek nodded. “Stop trying to make it stop.” He said simply. “I know it sounds terrible, but in order to get past the guilt you have to accept what’s been done even if you didn’t mean to do it or in your case if it was someone else in your body doing it. It happened, it can’t be changed. The only thing you can do now is...atone for what’s been done.” He explained quietly. “What you do now is what matters, how you handle what was sacrificed for you will say a lot about where you’ll end up.”   
  
Derek glanced down for a minute. “Do you know why I was so hard on Scott about him and Allison?” He asked glancing up at Stiles.   
  
Stiles rubbed his hands over his face again, knowing that Derek was right. There wasn’t any way for him to go back and change things. He couldn’t right all the wrongs he’d done, whether he’d been in control or not. And maybe he was struggling too hard thinking that he ever could. He couldn’t bring everyone back to life. He couldn’t unshoot Allison with an arrow, couldn’t not almost kill his dad or his best friend.   
  
But he shut his eyes at the question. “Because of Paige,” he said very quietly.   
  
Derek’s eyebrows shot up, his face paling slightly. “I didn’t...I didn’t realize you knew about that.” He swallowed hard his chest tightening as he looked away from Stiles. “Oddly enough it wasn’t because of her.” He said quietly not expecting the sound of her name to still hurt so badly.   
  
Stiles winced at the older man’s reaction to Paige’s name. “Peter...filled Cora and I in on some stuff awhile back.” After Boyd. But he wasn’t going to mention Boyd. Not now.   
  
Derek nodded and shrugged before continuing. “It was because of Kate. After what happened with…” he paused, “I was pretty broken. The guilt...it did things to me. And at my lowest point I met Kate and like an idiot I fell for her. My family warned me, told me to stay away from her that she wasn’t a good person, but I didn’t listen. I was angry and a teenager and I wanted what I wanted.”   
  
“Well, it turned out Kate was only using me so she could find a way into my house. Her and her hunters set the entire house up in flames while we were in school.” Derek let out a long breath. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t blame myself for my family’s annihilation.” He admitted. “The kind of guilt I live with...it weighs on a person Stiles. Makes them do and say things they probably wouldn’t normally do or say. It changes them in a way that they can’t go back from...only forward.”   
  
When Derek began to explain about Kate, everything made a lot more sense to Stiles, even if neither case had _truly_ been Derek’s fault. He understood Derek’s innate distrust of Allison and Chris Argent given Kate’s history with Derek’s family. He swallowed hard, empathy making him turn his head to look at Derek.   
  
“Kate Argent was a manipulative, evil bitch. Don’t blame yourself for falling for her act, Derek. She knew what she was doing and you were just a kid, okay? It’s not your fault. It’s hers. _Just_ hers,” he said with a lot more certainty than he had about most things these days. But the rest of what he said wasn’t lost on Stiles, either.   
  
Derek sent Stiles half a smile. “She was a kid then too and I didn’t think...I didn’t think anyone could be that inherently evil. I didn’t take into consideration who her Father was.” He sighed and shook his head. “I hear what you’re saying and most days I believe it. I didn’t kill them. But I unlocked the door for the person who did and I’ll always have to live with that. I’ll have to wonder if I listened to my Mother and left Kate alone, not brought her to my home, if this still would have happened.” He explained quietly.   
  
“It took me a lot of years to come back here, to accept that I can’t change what happened but I can choose how I deal with it. It’s not an easy thing to do though. Guilt can eat away at you if you let it, burrow itself inside of your very essence and never leave. It can taint everything you do...or you can choose a different path. You can let your guilt drive you to be better. You can control it and use it.” He said matter-of-factly.   
  
Stiles listened quietly as Derek continued, and he chewed on his thumbnail, stomach twisting. He knew what Derek was saying was true because the guilt was already eating away at him. It had been since the beginning of the whole nightmare and idly he wondered if Jackson Whittemore ever felt this guilty about the things he’d done when he’d been the kanima.   
  
“By protecting Scott and everyone,” Stiles murmured, thinking about what Deaton had told him about being an emissary.   
  
Derek angled his head to the side. “It could be that.” He conceded. “The thing is, there’s no magic fix. The guilt is always going to be there it’s not about getting rid of it. Feeling guilt, remorse, it’s a good thing. It shows what kind of a person you are.” Derek pushed himself up needing to move around as he spoke.   
  
“I’m far from perfect. I’m not always nice, and when I first came back to town I had a chip on my shoulder. I was an asshole. I still am sometimes, but I’m trying to change.” He swallowed hard. “There was a time where I had friends and family...when I wasn’t...the way I am now.” Alone, he added silently.   
  
“I want to have a life. A real life. I don’t just want to exist I want to fix the things I’ve broken, help where I can. Getting a chance to talk to my Mother, helped remind me of the kind of person I want to be.” He paused, “You’re a good guy...you got a raw deal and it’s shitty. But you’ve got people who care about you who would do anything to help you through it. I didn’t have that.”   
  
Derek took a step closer to Stiles and sat on the table in front of him. “You can do this; you can push through the pain and the guilt. It won’t be easy and when it gets to be too much you can come here. I’ve got,” he paused, “What has been dubbed my angry wolf room. It’s where the workout equipment is. You’ve got guilt, anger...take it out on the bag. And then leave it there at the end of the day and go home to the family that loves you. That believes you can fix what’s been broken, because you can.”   
  
Stiles met Derek’s eyes, chest tightening as he mulled over everything he was saying. He nodded slowly. He hesitated a moment, then reached out and laid his hand on Derek’s arm, gripping it firmly. “I need to set something straight here, from what you just said. You said you _used_ to have family and friends.”   
  
He shook his head. “You’ve got that _now_ , too. You’ve got Scott and Lydia, and you’ve got me and my dad and Scott’s mom, and you’ve got Cora.” Probably Allison and Isaac one day, too. “So don’t think you’re alone either, because you’re not. A lot of people care about you, too. So don’t forget it.”   
  
Derek swallowed hard and he gave Stiles a curt nod, not great with emotion. “Your girlfriend likes to remind me of that too,” he said quietly. “I know I haven’t always been nice to you guys, and I’ve even tried to kill a few of you.” He ducked his head, “But I’ve always tried to be there for Scott. And hope you all know that I’m here if you need anything. I don’t always say that and more often than not I’ll probably complain that you’re bothering me...but you’re not.” He told him quietly.   
  
“Hey, who among us hasn’t tried to kill someone else in the pack at least once?” He paused. “Well. Except Scott. And Lydia.” He looked down, shrugging. “But, I get what you’re saying. Maybe it’s just…gonna take a learning curve for all of us. You know? Figuring it all out. Working together as an actual pack.”   
  
Derek nodded, “It usually does,” he admitted as he leaned back again, “But if anyone can unite everyone it’s Scott. Afterall how many wolf packs can say they have a hunter in them?” He asked with a shake of his head.   
  
“Or humans period,” Stiles pointed out, rubbing his neck. A faint smile touched his mouth as he felt some of his anxiety draining away. “Thanks, Derek.” His voice was quiet.   
  
Derek’s lip turned up in a genuine smile, “Sure.” He hesitated, “You’re a loyal friend. You’ve been there for Scott from the very beginning and even with the change and everything...you’ve never let him down. I value loyalty. It’s hard to come by.” Derek had never had a best friend like Scott does, but he imagined if he had, he’d want that person to embody the same qualities as Stiles. Derek might not have been a lot of things over the years, but loyal was always one of them. Once he decided to care about someone, he’d always be there through thick and thin, that’s just how he was.   
  
Stiles could count on one hand the number of times he’d actually seen Derek smile, let alone compliment him on...anything. He didn’t necessarily agree that he’d never let Scott down, but he was going to do his best to move past that. He nodded slightly, looking around the apartment and then back at the werewolf once more. Maybe they both had a lot of guilt to carry, and maybe it would never really go away.   
  
But maybe they’d both end up being okay anyway. Someday.   


______

  
  
Lydia dropped down on the bench outside in the quad glancing up and waiting for Allison to do the same. It had been a long morning and she was looking forward to hanging out with her friends for a period without having to worry about anything else. Lydia caught sight of Scott and Kira out of the corner of her eye. She glanced at Allison and Isaac, “Did you guys see the sub we have for next period?” Lydia asked with a grin as she shook her bottle of ice tea.   
  
“Ugh, he’s disgustingly attractive,” Allison said with a sigh, opening her bottle of tea too taking a drink and feeling Isaac’s gaze on her. She turned her head to look at him, suppressing a smile at his arched eyebrows. “In a completely aesthetic way.”   
  
Isaac grunted and lifted his bottle of water from his tray.   
  
Lydia smirked, “Disgustingly attractive doesn’t begin to cover it...I wonder if he’s from the local college,” she said a thoughtful look crossing her face as she twisted the cap on her drink.   
  
Isaac pointed, “That’s a strange look...what look is that?” He asked Allison, “Is that her plotting look?”   
  
Scott put his tray down beside Lydia, Kira at his side. “It certainly looks like it.” He commented while sitting down.   
  
“It’s definitely her plotting look,” Allison confirmed with a smirk.   
  
“And what is it, exactly that we’re plotting?” a familiar voice said from behind them, causing every single one of them to turn around and look. Stiles smiled faintly and set his book bag on the ground under the bench before taking a seat across from Scott and Lydia.   
  
“You’re back!” Scott and Lydia spoke at the same time.   
  
She reached out and slapped Scott lightly on his arm. “Stop that.”   
  
Scott made a face and rubbed his arm. “I didn’t know you were coming today dude, why didn’t you tell me I could have left the bike at home and we could have come together.” He said glad to see his friend up and at school.   
  
“I figured I’d start out with a half day,” Stiles said, amused by the pair’s interaction. He was still tired, but he was also starting to feel better than he had in awhile. “And I wanted it to be a surprise.” He smiled at Allison, Isaac and Kira.   
  
“Probably a good idea to start a little slower,” Allison agreed, nodding as she returned his smile. She was glad to see that there was some color in cheeks now. It hadn’t been there the last time she’d seen him.   
  
“Welcome back,” Kira said with a bright smile.   
  
Stiles grinned and then glanced around at his friends. “So what’s Lydia plotting?” he asked with interest, leaning forward on his arms and looking at her inquisitively.   
  
Scott grinned resting his hand on Kira’s back at her welcome. “We don’t know, we just got here,” Scott said glancing at Lydia.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Nothing, I’m plot free.” She said lightly.   
  
Isaac arched an eyebrow, “That’s not what you were just saying, you were asking Allison about, ow-” He reached down and rubbed his shin. “Did I say you were plotting something? My bad...I meant you weren’t plotting anything.” He gripped his water sending a pout in Lydia’s direction as he took a sip.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow at Isaac before shifting her gaze to Stiles. She smiled and held out her bag of chips, “Veggie chip?” she offered sweetly.   
  
Stiles eyed all of them warily, even if it was a playful kind of suspicion, then reached out and took one of the offered chips, popping it into his mouth and looking at Scott curiously, then back at Lydia. “Not at all convinced, for the record.”   
  
Kira grinned, leaning against Scott and then leaning back to look at Lydia. “I think he might know you too well or something.”   
  
Lydia rolled her eyes, “Mmm it seems he does.” She responded, “It was a personal plotting session that did not involve anyone here.” She answered. “And I’ve decided to abandon it anyway, so nothing to tell.” She said as she ate one of her chips.   
  
Isaac glanced at Stiles, “Looks like you came back for the easy half of the day. We’ve got a sub next period,” he told him lightly as he stole one of Allison’s fries.   
  
“Oh, do we?” Stiles looked at Isaac and then back at Lydia with a knowing look.   
  
Allison smacked Isaac’s hand lightly. “Ask first,” she teased.   
  
“She kicked me,” he responded glancing at Allison.   
  
Lydia rolled her eyes, “Don’t be a baby that kick didn’t hurt, me marginally human, you werewolf.” She pointed out.   
  
Isaac huffed. “It’s still abuse. You don’t abuse your friends. Not unless they ask nicely.” He glanced at Allison, “Aren’t you know…you supposed to take my side now?” He asked jokingly as he rested a hand on her leg.   
  
“Babe, I’m definitely on your side.” Allison covered his hand with hers, shaking her head as a smile tugged at her mouth.   
  
Stiles smirked and looked at Scott, watching him interact quietly with Kira. His best friend looked happier than he’d seen him in awhile and that warmed his heart. He ducked his head then looked over at Lydia with a soft smile.   
  
She returned it and tilted her bag of chips towards him again. “I’m glad you came today,” she said softly leaning forward slightly, ignoring their friend’s conversations. “It’s not the same here without you,” Lydia admitted.   
  
Stiles met her eyes, then reached out and laid a hand on her arm, feeling the familiar spark of energy when he touched her. “Of course not. I have that effect,” he joked.   
  
Lydia smirked, “Cute,” she joked, her heartbeat picking up speed at his touch. Lydia couldn't remember when that started to happen, but it was definitely fairly new.   
  
Isaac tilted his head in their direction as he continued talking to Allison, the increase in heartbeat drawing him in.   
  
Lydia slid her arm back until her hand was level with his. She brushed her fingers against his, “Your Dad’s working late tonight,” she commented, “I was thinking we could grab something to eat, and then maybe drop some off for him on our way back to your place,” she commented casually.   
  
Stiles smiled at that, a genuine smile. “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.” He glanced over at Scott even as he wrapped his fingers around Lydia’s. He kicked him lightly under the table. Not enough to hurt, just enough to get his attention. “How’d your Chem test go?”   
  
Scott glanced away from Kira and up at his friend with a grin. “B plus. Five points up from last time,” he added as he pointed at Stiles, “You’re the best for making me study that crap,” he said with a boyish grin as he threaded his fingers through Kira’s. “Are you going to make yours up this week?”   
  
“Yep, later today. Good job, by the way. Not that I had any doubt.” He smiled at Kira, who returned it easily. “How about you? How did yours go?”   
  
“A,” she told him, leaning into Scott again.   
  
“Excellent. All my friends are smart.”   
  
Isaac shook his head, “Nope, got a C,” he said with a sigh. “I can’t help it. Whenever I’m studying I get distracted.” He explained.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “Then use my study game, Allison knows it. It can be a very effective studying tool.” She said lightly. “It’s how I used to get Jackson to study.” She said not even realizing she’d said his name, something she never did because it just hurt too much.   
  
Stiles winced a little at the mention of Jackson, but didn’t remark on her mention of the other guy’s name. “It’s effective. Isn’t it, Scott?” He nodded at his best friend. Then he glanced at Isaac. “Besides, you could do worse than a C. A C’s at least passing.” He shrugged.   
  
“Stiles has a point. But maybe we could start doing study groups with Lydia’s game,” Allison suggested.   
  
Scott nodded, “I could use a study group.” he glanced at Kira with a smile, “What do you say, study group once a week? Snacks, books and some friendly competition.” He said with a grin.   
  
“I’m in,” Kira agreed, nodding.   
  
“We could probably rope Derek into helping us, too,” Stiles added. “He’s got this giant loft that’s all nicely fixed up.” He looked at Lydia with a meaningful gaze. “We should help it look more lived in now.” Mostly he didn’t want Derek to feel like he was alone.   
  
Lydia’s expression softened and she squeezed his hand gently at the gesture, but also curious when he’d seen it. “That’s the perfect idea. Derek’s loft is my second favorite place to be.” She said brightly.   
  
Isaac cocked his head to the side, “Where’s your favorite place to be?” He asked curiously.   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow, “That’s none of your business Lahey,” she teased lightly.   
  
“Is it _my_ business?” Stiles teased.   
  
Allison rolled her eyes. “I think the answer to both of your questions is very obvious.” She smirked and looked at Lydia sideways.   
  
Kira laughed softly and ducked her head, picking up a fry off her plate and eating it. She groaned when the bell rang. “Didn’t we just get here?”   
  
Lydia arched a brow, “I bet it’s not what you’re thinking,” she teased as she capped her ice tea and dropped it in her purse glancing over at Scott when he grunted.   
  
Scott glanced down at his tray, “This is why I’m always so hungry when I get home. They never give me enough time to eat,” he sighed as he took one more large bite of his burger before wiping his hands and standing. “Off to class we go,” he glanced at Stiles, “Catch you in Chem after I walk Kira to class?” He asked as Isaac and Allison got up.   
  
Stiles looked up at Scott and nodded at his question. “Yeah, definitely.” He smiled at his friend and shifted his gaze to Lydia as the others headed off after telling him it was good to have him back. “Walk you to class?” he offered quietly.   
  
Lydia turned in her seat, lifted her bag over her shoulder and held her hand out to Stiles so he could help her up. “Yes, please.”   
  
Stiles rose to his feet and slid his hand into hers, gently pulling her to her feet and smiling softly. “Good surprise?” His voice was soft.   
  
Lydia smiled and threaded their fingers together. “Best surprise,” she admitted as she leaned into him bumping his shoulder lightly with hers as they walked away from the table. Lydia glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, “Still curious what my number one place is?” She asked casually.   
  
“I’m kinda hoping you were going for my bed,” he admitted with a shy smile, looking down as they walked into the school.   
  
Lydia smirked, “That’s a little forward,” she commented casually pausing as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, “And entirely accurate. I fear there’s absolutely nothing left for you to learn about me. You know it all,” Lydia joked brushing her thumb against his hand   
  
Stiles grinned sheepishly, shrugging a shoulder. “Yeah, well. You know what I meant.” He walked alongside her down the hall. “And I think you’re severely underestimating yourself. Or overestimating me. Maybe both.”   
  
Lydia laughed lightly, “I’m not sure I know what you meant, or maybe you didn’t know what I meant,” she teased. Lydia moved her other hand across her body and gripped Stiles’ arm gently. “It’s nice having you back at school. My partner in crime,” she commented her grin widening.   
  
“I mean...I don’t think an entire lifetime will be long enough to solve all the mysteries of Lydia Martin,” Stiles admitted, glancing down at her, expression full of warmth. “It’s nice being back.”   
  
Lydia arched an eyebrow at his comment, “Well you’ll have to stick around and see,” she told him softly as they made their way to the door that led inside. Lydia paused a chill going up her spine. She shivered beside Stiles and glanced over her shoulder, her brows drawing together as the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.   
  
“I intend to,” he assured her quietly, pausing when she shivered and looked behind them. Instinctively, he turned, too, scanning the distance for any sign of trouble, but not seeing anything out of the ordinary. “Lyds? You okay?”   
  
Lydia glanced back at Stiles and opened her mouth pausing briefly before shaking her head and smiling, “Yeah, I’m good. I think I’ve got overactive imagination syndrome,” she joked. “I thought,” she rolled her eyes. The feeling was gone now so it wasn’t even worth bringing up. “It’s nothing, I’m good, actually let’s upgrade that good to great now that you’re back.” She told him rubbing her hand up and down his arm lightly.   
  
Stiles studied her, troubled by the uncertainty he felt from her. He reached down with his free hand and covered hers with it. But then he felt the same uncertainty fade away within seconds and even though he wasn’t convinced it was really nothing, he was going to let it go for now. He smiled softly at her words and reached out, opening the door for her so they could head into the school. So maybe something new was coming. It usually was.   
  
Right now, though, it was time to focus on the day ahead. The normalcy of being back at school. For both of them.   
  
It was time to start moving forward.


End file.
